


Alone No Longer

by Talsi74656



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Endgame, Angst, Depression, F/M, Temporal Prime Directive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talsi74656/pseuds/Talsi74656
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Endgame fixer-upper</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this work was going to be two stories, the first; Admiral, told Admiral Janeway's timeline. The second; Captain, told an alternate version of Endgame. I might still write these (I had a few different bits and pieces I wanted to add). I just didn't want any C/7 near my story, really.
> 
> This has the vaguest mention of C/7 but I've left it as nondescript as I could manage.
> 
> The pacing on this story isn't remarkable (sorry). I was working on emotional impact, I like the beginning, I think it works really well, the middle's weak, hopefully it bounces back at the end?
> 
> Once again this disclaimer was here the whole time...
> 
> I don't own Star Trek Voyager. If I did I wouldn't have ruined it.
> 
> Also, please follow me on tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/talsi74656 where I will blog all of my stories (links to all my stories are on my dash). And feel free to comment :)

Lonely is an interesting word. Lonely speaks of emotion, lonely speaks of perspective, lonely speaks of distance – lonely speaks of confinement. The word lonely is strong. It encapsulates many a concept to which I am familiar, but lonely isn’t the right word. Lonely doesn’t nearly do my situation justice. The word I’m looking for is alone.  
  
You may be thinking, ‘but Kathryn, you’re surrounded by people you care for, every day,’ and to an extent you’d be right.  
  
I love my crew deeply, with every fibre of my being. I would do anything for them and, scary as it is to consider, I mean that literally.  
  
I would have happily given my life. I would have taken a life or – worse, for them, to get them home. I have done these things, as you well know.  
  
Each time I set my morals aside, each time I waived my own rights or my proprieties, I lost a little of myself. Each time, I hated myself a little more. Now, I doubt even you would recognise me.  
  
So I pushed myself away, I sheltered myself in the hope that no one would get a good look at me, no one would see the monster I was becoming, the monster I’ve now become.  
  
Some of them saw it, at times. I noticed Chakotay watching me out of the corner of his eye at times, thinking that I didn’t see. I did and his scrutiny burned. If he knew of half of the things I did over the last years I have no doubt he’d have tossed me in my quarters and sealed the doors shut. Whether from his protective nature or from disgust, though, I’m not certain.  
  
But I digress. I’m writing this as a lesson for you. I hope you’ll learn from my mistakes, my story.  
  
This is not a pleasant story. This is not a happy story and it does not have a happy ending. If you want one of those you’re talking to the wrong crew.

***=/\=***

I shut down.  
  
When Jaffen refused to join Voyager, it hurt. Of course it did, though I honestly don’t think that relationship would have lasted. The poor man would have ended up trapped, months or perhaps years from home. That might have been worse.  
  
I felt obliged to offer for him to stay, in a way. My desperate attempt to stave off the loneliness I’d been feeling for so long doomed me to an even worse fate. It hurt Chakotay. It hurt him so much that he fled.  
  
I didn’t realise it at first, it took me too long to realise it, in fact. Hurting Chakotay was the last thing on my mind. I should have noticed much sooner that he still held affections for me. After Quarra I wanted to be happy again, but I didn’t understand that I was losing that opportunity.  
  
I love Chakotay, I have for a long time and though I forced it to the back of my mind, those feelings never disappeared. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.  
  
With Justin I was young, brash and naïve. He was too - ‘energetic’ is a nice way of putting it, or perhaps ‘charismatic’. I did love him, but I have the feeling our time together would have ended tragically, perhaps not as tragically as life decreed, however.  
  
Mark was something else. Mark was someone who wasn’t about to step aboard a doomed shuttle. Mark wouldn’t even board a Starship. Mark was safe. To this day I’m not certain whether I loved him or whether he was just convenient, something to take my mind from what I’d lost. That sounds selfish, it was selfish and perhaps that’s why the universe decided to throw me into the situation in which I found myself, aboard Voyager.  
  
I don’t believe in fate or soul mates. But I truly believe that in nine out of ten universes Chakotay and I found each other. I need to believe that, or I might break. I need to believe that somewhere out there is a Kathryn Janeway who can always smile openly at the man she loves, whisper the words in his ears and take him to her bed.  
  
So, I’m just one of the unlucky ones.  
  
His relationship with Seven came out of nowhere. At first I was shocked, I thought it a joke. When I finally came to realise the truth of their situation I was heart-broken. I could scarcely be in the same room as them. I wanted him to be happy, I really did, but did he need to be happy with her?  
  
She was my protégé and sometimes I thought of her like a surrogate daughter, which of course just complicated my feelings on the matter. But deep down the underlying problem was that they were wrong for each other. She was too young, too inexperienced. Their fundamental ideologies were not even in the same ball park as one another, I don’t even think they were on the same planet. Where Chakotay was deeply spiritual, Seven was overly analytical. Where Chakotay was warm, Seven was cold. Chakotay wanted a family, Seven wanted to learn about humanity and companionship. He was approaching fifty and Seven was still in her twenties.  
  
Ok, I lied. The underlying problem is that I was jealous, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not right. I still remember the way he would talk about her, even months before they began to date. He had been angry with my decision to bring her aboard and angrier with the attention I gave her. She held issue with him too. I remember her anger at his decisions and his faith showing itself a number of times.  
  
I cannot begin to fathom how they possibly worked together. Once they had begun dating I remember seeing them together in the mess hall. They didn’t speak, they didn’t smile. They ate and then they departed. I can’t think that it was overly fulfilling in any way. Or perhaps I didn’t want to see it as fulfilling?  
  
I made a promise to myself long ago, when I realised that I was in love with Chakotay, but couldn’t act on those feelings. I promised myself that I would never hold him back, never keep him from moving on. So I kept my distance. In hind-sight, knowing what I know now, I’d have said something. They weren’t happy.  
  
But he and I had scarcely spoken in months. We hadn’t had a meal together since before Lieutenant Carey was killed; on the first official assignment we received from Starfleet. That hurt. If ever there was a time that I could use his comforting shoulder that would have been the time. I guess he had grown sick of me by then.


	2. Chapter 2

I’ve already told you that I am lonely. I’m not too proud to admit that I am depressed. I have been for some time.  
  
My depression adversely affected my mood. I could see the crew’s hesitation in spending time with me. So I tried not to impose on the crew’s celebrations, I made them uncomfortable and that just wasn’t fair.  
  
Most of my hours were spent in my ready room after Carey’s death. I didn’t go ‘off duty’ except to sleep. I’d even fallen asleep in my ready room a number of times. Whenever that happened in the past Chakotay was always there to wake me up, admonish me and send me to my quarters. I hated the ‘mothering,’ but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it. No, I didn’t miss the lectures, I missed that he cared.  
  
I wish I could tell you that it all changed from here, that I found and fixed myself, that I turned it all around. But I had been digging myself _quite_ the hole over my years on Voyager. By the time I understood the depth of the depression I’d fallen into, I was too late to save myself. Well, I’m sure if I’d had the time to dedicate to my own recovery I might have had a chance. But I had a ship to maintain, I couldn’t afford to dedicate anything less than one hundred percent of myself to Voyager.  
  
So life skated by me until it had been two years since Carey’s death. Two years since I’d spent any off duty time with a friend. I thought myself numb. Wrong again.  
  
Chakotay and Seven came to my ready room early in the morning. I remember trying desperately not to cringe as I motioned for them to take a seat. I forced a smile, though I know it never touched my eyes.  
  
This occasion was probably the _first time_ someone visited for a social call and I did not offer them a drink. Once again showing just how truly selfish I can be. Whatever they were doing in my office, I just wanted them to leave.  
  
Deep down I _knew_ why they were visiting, what they wanted to tell me.  
  
“Captain,” Chakotay said with a broad grin. His hand reached almost absently for Seven’s.  
  
I felt as though the pair had just pulled phasers on me.  
  
“I’ve asked Seven to marry me -” he sounded so excited.  
  
He shot me.  
  
I swear to you my throat constricted with such a force I thought I would choke to death in front of them. I doubt they’d have noticed, though.  
  
I schooled my reaction as best I could, though I can’t imagine I did a very good job.  
  
“And I said yes,” Seven added, enthusiastically. She thrust her hand in my direction to show the golden engagement ring bordered in low set diamonds. I remember thinking just how gaudy and ugly the thing was.  
  
The blast from Seven’s phaser struck me in the heart. I had to look down to make sure I wasn’t bleeding, or perhaps I glanced down to hide the pain in my eyes.  
  
Looking back on this moment I don’t think they saw anything but their own happiness. I don’t believe they saw my anguish. If they had, they wouldn’t have requested that I officiate. At least I hope that they wouldn’t have.  
  
How I managed to continue with the conversation, I’ll never be sure. As I’ve said, I promised that I would never stand in the way of his happiness. I smiled as genuinely as I could manage. I disguised the tears in my eyes for tears of joy. I hugged her, I shook his hand and I congratulated them both. After that I just hoped they’d leave. But I was their _friend_ , the _first_ to _know!_ They wanted to tell me everything. They wanted to know how soon I could perform the ceremony.  
  
_Never_.  
  
They wanted my blessing. I gave it as best I could before making a dull excuse about having to return to a _very important report_. There was no report. I had been in my ready room until midnight, the night before, finishing almost the rest of the week’s work available at the time.  
  
Then they extended a dinner invitation.  
  
“We’ll see,” I remember saying, vaguely.  
  
I couldn’t, I just couldn’t do it. No matter how many times I reiterated to myself that I wanted him to be happy, I couldn’t bear to sit by and watch.  
  
When they called again at nineteen hundred I apologised, I was behind on another report; I wouldn’t be finished any time soon.  
  
I fell asleep at my desk, waking somewhere in the vicinity of zero three hundred and headed back to my quarters, via the deck one exit.  
  
They tried twice more to invite me for a meal before, I guess, they eventually got the hint. Seven seemed upset, Chakotay seemed angry, I – was aloof. No, I was boiling, I was screaming and crying, devastated on the inside. But over the years I’d become so adept at painting on the Captain’s mask that even Chakotay couldn’t tell how I really felt – or he just didn’t care anymore.  
  
The months wore on, Baytart and Kyoto came to me and asked that I marry them, too. It seemed in fact that Chakotay and Seven had paved the way. Two more couples coming to me before the end of the year. Each time, though, they seemed nervous. I told them all the same thing, we’d organise the celebrations once Voyager had the supplies to hold a real party for them. Strangely this didn’t seem to put them at ease, though.  
  
I remember sitting on the bridge one day, I rarely did so anymore. We had been waiting for the analysis from a plasma storm. I’d been anxious for the results, for whatever reason, and decided to sit in the command chair. The air on the bridge had been tense. At the time I thought it unusual, the plasma storm was no more than an inconvenience. I didn’t see why everyone would be as anxious as I.  
  
A few weeks later we were awaiting the next of Voyager’s children to be born. I stepped onto the bridge and the jocular conversation between Chakotay, Tom and Harry ceased immediately. The moment Tom whipped his chair to the front of the bridge I realised what was going on. They were nervous in my presence. I couldn’t even sit at my duty station without making my crew feel uncomfortable. I choked, made some vague excuse and retreated to my quarters for the remainder of the shift.  
  
When the baby came, a boy named Adam, I didn’t bother going to visit his parents – they didn’t want to see me.  
  
Still, I was the Captain. Though I tried to stay away as best I could, I had to take that chair at times. And upon each and every event, from a trade negotiation to a combat, the discomfiture of the bridge crew was evident.  
  
It certainly didn’t help Voyager in the long run. My lack of socialising made me hesitant to talk to other species. I suppose my less than stellar past with Delta Quadrant natives didn’t help.  
  
Eventually my reclusion made me become ruthless in Voyager’s goals, compromising little if it meant a delay for my ship and crew. I ignored more than one ‘friendly hail’ if Voyager was well stocked. This put Chakotay’s back up, but I didn’t care. I wanted to tell him that we weren’t here to make friends – but that wasn’t exactly true. I knew at the time Starfleet would be irritated with me, for missing out on so many first contact situations. Obviously Chakotay informed them. Starfleet began to comment on Voyager’s lack of first contacts during our monthly pathfinder communiques.  
  
As the months wore on, they began demanding more and more of my time on the pathfinder link; for our ‘situation with first contacts’ and many other command reasons. So much time that it began to eat into my personal time, until I realised I hadn’t spoken to my family in about half a year.  
  
The realisation came as though I knife in my heart when Owen told me about the accident. A _fluke_ they called it. After all, there hadn’t been a transporter accident in Starfleet history in _years_. My mother, had been killed while transporting between a shuttle and Jupiter station.  
  
The crew were oblivious to my pain. I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone and I begged Owen not to say a word. I don’t think I told anyone throughout Voyager’s journey.  
  
This may have been in some way bearable if not for the fact that three days later I was to officiate Chakotay and Seven’s wedding.


	3. Chapter 3

When my alarm went off that morning I wanted to ignore it, roll over and pretend that none of this was happening.  
  
In my half-awake state I almost fooled myself into thinking that I was a happy lieutenant on board the Al Batani again.  
  
My family were all alive, my fiancé loved me dearly. We would be married in three months, and then we would begin a family. I wanted two children of course.  
  
Then I opened my eyes and remembered where I was, what I had to do that day.  
  
I have never missed Justin more.  
  
With three hours before the ceremony, I sat, I procrastinated, I thought about anything _except_ what I was going to say that day. I hadn’t prepared a thing. What could I say of the man I loved, marrying a woman I thought of as a daughter? Well, aside from ‘please don’t do this’.  
  
I wanted to continue ignoring everything, the whole day, the whole event, but half an hour before I was due to arrive in the mess hall, my door chimed.  
  
Frustrated I snapped for whoever it was to enter. The moment I saw him I broke into tears.  
  
Tuvok must have sensed my apprehension, my anguish and my depression. The moment the door opened he moved over and put his arms around me in a comforting embrace. Vulcan or not, my friend had a better understanding of my emotional state than anyone, it seemed.  
  
“I am very sorry, my friend,” he soothed me. His hands clasped my shoulders and I realised this was the closest I’d been to another body in _years_. I missed the warmth of another person and cried for that, as much as I was crying for my own self-pity.  
  
My oldest and dearest friend broke my barriers as though they’d never existed and I wept for everything I’d lost. I wept for Justin and my father, my mother, Mark and every year of my life spent aboard Voyager. And of course, I wept because I’d lost Chakotay.  
  
I was _so_ lucky to have Tuvok there. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, then I’d have broken down in front of the crew. I can only imagine what they might have thought.  
  
He was a true friend, though. He didn’t allow me to wallow long. He knew I needed to be my best for this occasion, because broken-hearted or not I had to be the Captain. After about fifteen minutes of shameless sobbing he pulled me away, “Captain,” he began, “Kathryn,” he amended, “you are strong, you will get through this.”  
  
Vulcans can’t lie.  
  
Through some agonising force of will I dried my eyes, I refreshed myself in the mirror, I reapplied my makeup and I hugged my friend again. “Thank you, Tuvok,” I whispered.  
  
“It is my pleasure, Captain,” he responded.  
  
I wish I knew then what I know now, that this wasn’t just some sensitive friendly gesture. Two years later Tuvok had succumbed to a neurochemical imbalance that had been plaguing him for years. This was one of the first of many ‘emotional outbursts’ on his part – though low key.  
  
I decided that for my friend I would be composed, I would be the consummate Captain and perform my duties to the best of my ability.  
  
Composed is not a word I would use to describe myself at the ceremony, however. All I remember of the event, because I couldn’t bring myself to look at them, was the pinch-lipped expression on B’Elanna’s face and commiserating frown from Tom. I must have been an open book. I can’t stand the thought that they pitied me, but in a strange way in helped me make it through the day.  
  
The moment all was said and done I excused myself. I didn’t need to give any speeches; well, I didn’t _want_ to give any speeches. The crew likely had a much better time without me there anyway. Plus, this way I allowed the crew on the bridge to join the celebrations.  
  
For obvious reasons I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to see them cut their damn cake or have their first dance. That being said, from what I learned later; neither did most of the crew.  
  
I sat alone in the Captain’s chair and I cried on duty.  
  
I felt ashamed of myself. Yet, if the turbolift doors had opened, if anyone had interrupted my agony, I wouldn’t have been able to stop.  
  
There was a time I thought I deserved this. After all I had trapped the crew out here. I had killed Tuvix; I had made a deal with the Borg, given the Hirogen technology and nearly gotten my crew kill in my pursuit of Ransom. I didn’t deserve happiness, or love, or family, or even friends.  
  
I viewed it all as universal karmic justice. Perhaps I was right; perhaps I did deserve the pain. Perhaps this _was_ karmic justice, though it hardly paid off my demons.  
  
Possibly the most unbearable part about all of this was that Voyager provided little to distract me. At this point we’d been sailing on six months and no hostile contact. That in itself was worthy of a party – for everyone who didn’t want to be distracted. I desperately wanted something to take my mind from my depressive musings. What I wouldn’t have given for a Borg cube to appear that afternoon.  
  
But as time wore on I became more and more anxious about our lack of combat, I was concerned about my abilities becoming rusty. I became so worried about my inability to command effectively that I scheduled strict combat drills. I had Voyager randomly go to red alert at all hours of the day. I wanted to stay sharp – I wanted to forget.  
  
This became the catalyst for one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. The most recent drill had ended and I made my way back to my quarters.  
  
As Chakotay and Seven were still on their ‘honeymoon,’ they were excused from the simulations.  
  
The moment I exited the turbolift around the corner from my quarters I heard someone yelling through the bulkhead. The time was zero two hundred hours, anyone who wasn’t responding to the drill should have been asleep – _they_ should have been asleep.  
  
“Why the _hell_ didn’t you tell me _before_ I married you?” It was Chakotay’s voice. This anger was not something I’d ever associated with him. I’d heard him yell before, but over ethics and morality, this was a domestic and something I never imagined of him.  
  
There was a stoic, muffled response and as I rounded the corridor, to head to my quarters Seven darted out of their room.  
  
As I said before, I have never felt more uncomfortable.  
  
She appeared, well, really she appeared nonplussed. Her eyes flicked to mine and she frowned showing rather more emotion than I was used to (I’d basically stopped looking at her when I found out the pair had been dating).  
  
“I believe I have made an error,” she said.  
  
I really had no idea what to say. I wanted to say, ‘yes, you’re terrible together,’ but I stood awkwardly wondering how I might be able to get out of this without discussing their relationship.  
  
“I do not wish for offspring, Chakotay feels slighted that I did not inform him of this before our wedding,” she continued.  
  
I cringed, more for myself than anything. What the hell was I supposed to say, ‘you be Captain, I’ll have his offspring?’ Have I mentioned how selfish I can be?  
  
“He believes I will change my mind,” Seven seemed to be talking for the sake of talking now. I wondered if I could edge past and run into my quarters, she mightn’t notice.  
  
“I will not,” she said.  
  
Her words were more vulnerable than I was expecting and I remembered the young woman I’d mentored all those years ago. I still cared dearly for Seven. I still cared dearly for Chakotay, even if I couldn’t stand the sight of either of them.  
  
“You don’t have to have children, Seven,” I found myself saying softly. _Stay out of this Kathryn_ , I yelled at myself. _No good will come of this_. I shouldn’t have been taking sides – even if I was right.  
  
Chakotay was being selfish, or perhaps I was just too angry at him to see this from his point of view. Looking back I know how lonely he had been, I know that he wanted children and obviously felt that time was running out. In this moment, however, none of that was a consideration.  
  
“I do not know what to do,” Seven confessed with a dejected frown.  
  
Neither did I.  
  
Anyone else could have been wondering down this corridor. Anyone else could have overheard and talked her through this. That being said I’m certain most of the crew would have been equally as uncomfortable as I was, at that moment.  
  
I don’t remember how I resolved the conversation, how I managed to walk away. I _do_ remember that their screaming matches became a staple in my life. I ended up sleeping in my ready room _intentionally_ , to avoid them.  
  
Professionally I was livid at the pair; I couldn’t be the only one to notice their discord. Personally, however, I did not want to get involved. If the crew were put out by their bickering, they never brought it to me. I assume that, if they knew, they also knew that I didn’t want to put my nose in their business, or perhaps that the crew didn’t want to have to talk to me about it.  
  
Looking back on all of this I now know that the crew, the _entire crew_ , knew how I felt about Chakotay. Later on I noticed, at times, that he earned frowns and scowls from more than a few people. I thought only a select few knew of my torment. Only you know the embarrassment this realisation caused me.  
  
In the end, though, their fights, their dissension, their interruption to my, _almost non-existent_ , sleeping pattern, was short lived.


	4. Chapter 4

It was my fault. That being said she asked to join the team, to get away from their arguments. But that is no excuse. I was slow, I was exhausted, I was out of practice and I was distracted.  
  
When they tried to grab me I had no idea what was happening. I found out later that they were trophy collectors. Anyone who read the dossier provided to us by the Antalli Government would have been able to figure that out. None of us were paying attention, however. Tom and B’Elanna had a toddler. Chakotay and Seven were too busy arguing. Tuvok was beginning to truly suffer the effects of his neurological illness and I hadn’t really slept in about nine years, give or take.  
  
They had thought a Human Female Captain would do wonders for their collection. I shudder to think what else they had in their ‘care’.  
  
Seven was the only one paying attention. She was by my side in an instant, phaser drawn she shot one of the men who grabbed my arms and rounded on the other.  
  
Their weapons were, by our standard, primitive. They fired a small explosive shell that erupted on contact with its target, obliterating tissue and organs like fire through paper. Sophisticated? No, but unarguably deadly.  
  
I have a vague recollection of Seven falling in front of me. I remember blood. I remember her screaming in pain. I also remember her reaching a hand out to me as she fell to the ground.  
  
Tom called for a beamout to sickbay as they shot again, grazing my shoulder and puncturing my lung.  
  
The entire incident was over in seconds, not that I remember our return to Voyager. I remember drowning, I remember burning and then I remember blackness.  
  
When I woke Chakotay sat on a stool beside my bed. This, as much as the pain in my shoulder, was quite a shock to me. It had been over three years since he had been in sickbay when I awoke.  
  
He had been crying. I remember distinctly the expression of despair and at the same time relief in his eyes, when I met them. I knew, before he told me, what had happened. At the time I didn’t recall much. I remember the away team’s frantic scrambling to help her, to shelter me.  
  
With a solemn expression Chakotay recounted the event of Seven’s death and I had more than a little difficulty containing my emotions.  
  
This should have been the moment we reconciled. This should have been the moment we remembered our friendship and comforted each other in our loss. But we were fools.  
  
In truth I can’t even remember what sparked our anger. I remember blaming myself for Seven’s death and then Chakotay yelling at me. He told me that I wasn’t leaving the ship again without a full security team.  
  
At the time I thought he _too_ blamed me for her death. I was devastated, but I was the Captain and I’d be _damned_ if I was going to let him dictate terms about leaving my own ship, to _me_.  
  
Now, I think he was scared, I think he didn’t want to lose anything else so he overreacted.  
  
I returned to active duty three days later. Chakotay took time off, of course, which made avoiding him rather easy. That being said we were a crew member down and on the verge of losing another.  
  
Tuvok came to visit, to hand in his resignation and recommendation for a replacement.  
  
I was stunned until he revealed his illness. Though it wouldn’t cause too much of an issue for the next couple of years, he explained, he knew that the lapse and Seven’s death had been his responsibility. He could no longer perform his job as chief of security adequately.  
  
I had no choice but to accept, brought to tears again for about the fifth time in as many months.  
  
His recommendations, Paul Rollins and Mike Ayala were both more than capable. Though this sparked yet another argument between Chakotay and I. He assumed I was going to pick Rollins, though I was already leaning toward Ayala. His assumption cut me to the bone, however. He still felt I held some prejudice against the former Maquis. At that point I barely even remembered that our crews had at one time been split.  
  
He thought I was placating him when I chose Mike. I couldn’t understand at the time what Chakotay’s problem was. I knew he was hurting, but I couldn’t help being angry with him.  
  
I ignored him. I ignored him for a long time and so vehemently that he stopped visiting me in my ready room. Suddenly Harry or Tom were delivering the reports. They wouldn’t hang around, either, not that Chakotay had for years.  
  
In one fell swoop I’d lost everything that had kept me grounded over the years. I know I can hardly claim Seven or Chakotay as anything but acquaintance at this point, but you have to remember, I still cared about them.  
  
In truth Seven’s death took a rather long time to hit me. I think I was just numb. I cried more for Tuvok’s resignation than for her. Naturally, that didn’t last.  
  
Three months later we ran into a liberated Borg vessel. I had to leave the bridge half-way through our discussion when they mentioned the end of Unimatrix zero-one and Seven’s involvement. I broke into tears and was basically inconsolable, not that anyone really tried. I know, how _very_ commanding of me. I felt terrible, if that’s any consolation, leaving Chakotay to deal with the rest of that conversation. He was not someone who sheltered his feelings, so I thought. He’d made his peace with his wife’s death and did a remarkable job of negotiating a deal with the former drones.  
  
The liberated vessel offered us a significant supply of duranium in exchange for the Doctor removing their implants. There were six hundred of them on the scout sphere.  
  
The operations took four months, well, they took longer, but the sphere had three Doctors on board who, after having their own implants removed, learned the procedure from the Doctor. They took over the remainder once we parted ways.  
  
You might be thinking, ‘so they opened a transwarp conduit and flew us back to Earth, right?’ Sadly, you’d be mistaken. Their transwarp drive no longer functioned. You didn’t think it would be _that_ easy, did you?  
  
Once our bargain was met, they gave us a supply of duranium that we retained until two years before our return to Earth. Both cargo bays were full to the brim and we needed to clear out extra space in other locations, just to store it.  
  
Before parting ways we extended an invite for anyone who wished to return to the Alpha Quadrant to join us.  
  
There had been sixty five people from Federation species aboard their vessel, but they had formed their own community over the past few years and declined to travel with us. The last thing they did before departing was warn us of a rather belligerent species we would encounter, if we maintained our current course. The species in question were the reason for the Sphere’s damaged transwarp drive.  
  
I wallowed for some time after that. Well, that is to say, I wallowed more. While the sphere escorted us and around for around five months after, all I could think about was Seven and how I hadn’t been there for her in her last months. She had obviously been in pain and I had ignored her. I had been petty and had not acted the part of a friend in the least, certainly not a mentor.  
  
Part of me realised that I had also been this way with Chakotay. Part of me thought that I should talk to him. But a larger part of me was still angry with the way he was treating me.


	5. Chapter 5

I started drinking.  
  
I’d been partial to a glass of wine, or two, with dinners or on special occasions something a little ‘firmer’. This was different though. This was heavy drinking and not synthehol.  
  
As I’ve said, I was a mess and had been for a long time.  
  
The evening we met _them_ I had been on a particularly exhaustive binge. Voyager hadn’t had a legitimate red alert situation in about a year now, since Seven’s death. The sound shocked me; I almost had no idea what it meant.  
  
But I wasn’t so drunk that I couldn’t take my post.  
  
That’s not true at all, but I have to say I’m still a rather effective commander while inebriated. I raced to the bridge. Obviously this was quite difficult in a normal combat situation, let alone while ‘stumbling drunk’.  
  
When I arrived I made my way to the centre of the bridge, as I normally did, barking for an update on our situation.  
  
“We have no idea who they are,” Lieutenant Kim announced, “they just dropped out of warp and opened fire.  
  
There were four small vessels, dark grey and black with one of the ugliest ship designs I’ve seen to date. They had a spherical fore section with two nacelles protruding at an odd angle from the body. They were clunky and ridiculous to look at; maybe that’s why I didn’t take them seriously at first.  
  
It probably didn’t help that we took relatively little damage and were easily able to dispatch the ships.  
  
I won’t forget what happened toward the end of the battle, however. We received a hail; a viscous and guttural growling that, I swear to any deity listening, shocked me sober. Then two of their half disabled vessels charged.  
  
In that moment I celebrated the fact that I chose Ayala as my chief of security. I don’t know whether Rollins or even Tuvok would have reacted so quickly. He activated the tractor beam and pushed one of the ships into the other, destroying the pair in a fireball. Voyager would not have survived the damage had they collided with her. As it was we had taken a massive hit in the explosion.  
  
When the dust settled the remaining vessels had vanished and we had lost more than we’d bargained for.  
  
Sixteen people had been injured in the blast, we’d sustained hull breaches to decks seven through ten and lost deflector control. Worst of all, Susan Nicoletti and Timothy Parsons had been killed.  
  
We learned a short time later that we had crossed into the presumed territory of the Fen Domar. They had claimed a vast expanse spaning over two thousand light-years in the shortest area. We could not skirt their territory, not now. We’d have added, at this stage, up to six years to our journey. As it was we’d be through in two.  
  
Now I wish I had made the choice to go around, but even Chakotay had supported the idea of making the mad dash across. I think he was so sick of Voyager by this stage that the quicker it was over, the better.  
  
The Fen Domar were ruthless, brutal and dogged. We spent as much time running and hiding as we did travelling. The only saving grace was the Gigora, another species who laid claim to the area. Don’t misunderstand me, they weren’t much better, they demanded hefty taxes for a ‘protection’ that wasn’t even constant.  
  
The Gigora had their value, however. They were open to trade and, when they were in the area during a Fen Domar assault, they were swift in their response and harsh in their reaction.  
  
Even with the Gigora’s aid we lost fourteen more crew members; Golwat, Megan Delaney, Pablo Baytart, Taryn Morella, Vorik, Angela Swinn, Penelope Sotto, Andrew Yosa, Lydia Anderson, Lauren Jarvis, Kashimuro Nazawa, Amelia Brooks, Gemma Gallagher and Amanda Porter.  
  
The deaths stung. They were all good people.  
  
I could tell you how each and every one of them died. What they were doing at the time, whether they had been on shift or off. I could tell you the name of the last holodeck program each of them ran and what their last dinners were. I could tell you about the families they had waiting for them back on Earth.  
  
They weren’t the last to die. After all we still had another ten years until Voyager would make it home.  
  
After the Fen Domar I spent a painstaking amount of time and energy trying to avoid any more deaths. An ‘L’ class planet with dilithium? We’ll find another planet. Their vessel could pose a threat to Voyager if they attack? Avoid them, _no Harry. I don’t care if they seem friendly_.  
  
We avoided everything if we could help it. The crew were growing restless and angry with me. So, for the first time in years Chakotay came to speak to me.  
  
He was angry at first, he demanded that we stop somewhere for some shore leave.  
  
I was so ready for a fight when I saw him, but something snapped inside of me as he spoke. “The crew are exhausted, we’re working them too hard, Kathryn. We need a break,” he yelled.  
  
I don’t know whether it was the fact that this was the most he’d said to me in around six years, or perhaps that this was the first I’d heard my name spoken allowed in about three. Perhaps it was the fact that he said ‘we’ were working them too hard or maybe I was just too tired and too upset to fight. I merely nodded and said “ok.”  
  
Conveniently we were approaching the border to the Beta Quadrant so I suggested that we have a Beta Quadrant party.  
  
He seemed so taken aback by my response that he stared at me for a long time before smiling.  
  
Chakotay’s smile had a way of making even my worst days a little brighter and this had been the first time I’d seen it in such a long time. He didn’t smile like that with Seven, well, I didn’t look at him when he was with Seven, so perhaps I didn’t see it.  
  
I had Jenny in astrometrics searching for a suitable planet upon which we might be able to take shore leave. She found it. Beautiful beaches that spanned kilometres, incredible, dense forests, warm open fields and snow-capped mountains perfect for skiing.  
  
The place was so like Earth; you’ll never guess what the crew began to call it.  
  
They never knew about the nickname Chakotay and I had given the planet we’d been stuck on, early in our journey. I have to say, I never thought I would see Chakotay blush so furiously, as he did when Tom declared that we should call the planet ‘New Earth.’  
  
So we set down on ‘New Earth,’ we landed the ship and planned to stay for two weeks while the engineering team gave Voyager a much needed overhaul. Each member of the crew had a week to themselves. Many took advantage, some finding a reclusive hole in the wall to hide. Others took their leave as couples or in groups.  
  
I was not inclined to leave the ship, as Captain I remained aboard to assist engineering with their tasks for the entire duration of our stay. For the first time in a long time, however, my crew tried to drag me away. Chakotay led the charge. At first he showed me some of the picturesque views and described the scenic locations he’d visited.  
  
Then he invited me to join him.  
  
I didn’t want to read anything into the invitation, but it brought back so many memories of the friend I’d lost years ago. I gave a polite refusal, though I guaranteed that I would attend the party at the end of our stay.  
  
The crew had outdone themselves for the event. They’d decorated the most incredible beach I had ever seen with fairy lights and a barbeque, which Chell and Tom were operating, since Chell had less of an idea how to use it than our pilot.  
  
Everyone was happy, or at least, everyone seemed happy. The celebration reminded me of the luau program from early in Voyager’s journey and the atmosphere reminded me of happier times. Like those before the Borg, before so much death, before the Hirogen and the Malon and the Fen Domar. When the food wasn’t quite as good, but the company was wonderful. For that night I almost began to convince myself that we were back there. Maybe that’s my excuse for what happened next.  
  
Chell had brought alcohol, real alcohol, to the party. People’s tolerances were not so apt at fighting the effects of real alcohol. Despite the fact that I’d been drinking real wine my tolerance levels left a lot to be desired.  
  
Chakotay invited me to dance, I’m afraid, drunk as we were, we probably weren’t very good at it. I remember having quite a lot of fun, though much of the night is a blur. What happened next, though, I remember as clearly as though it happened yesterday.  
  
He escorted me back to the ship. The halls were deserted, thanks to the party. I don’t know what I was thinking, but suddenly we stood outside his quarters, lips locked and ravenous. I’d love to blame the alcohol, but the fact of the matter was that I hadn’t been touched like this in over a decade and a part of me still loved Chakotay dearly.  
  
This memory is mine and mine alone.  
  
The morning sun flooded the room, through the window in his bedroom. I still wasn’t used to it; after all it had only been two weeks.  
  
When I awoke I lay with my head on his chest, the scent of him filling me with warmth and promise. I’d like to say that we lived happily ever after, but that’s just not true. You have to understand, I was deeply damaged by this stage.  
  
He woke seconds after me, obviously sensing my movement. He gave a beautiful, warm smile which I returned, until he cupped my face with a hand and whispered, “I love you, Kathryn, I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”  
  
I didn’t leap out of bed, so much as fall, pushing myself back, away from him and his lie. He couldn’t be telling the truth. If he was telling the truth then he had dated someone and married her while in love with me. My mind wouldn’t allow me to compute this information.  
  
“No you don’t,” I yelled at him, “don’t lie to me!”  
  
I didn’t give him a chance to talk. I grabbed my clothes, put them on and darted out the door before he’d finished saying my name.  
  
Once I returned to my quarters I engaged a privacy lock and cried rather more pathetically than I had in the entire time we’d been in the Delta Quadrant. It’s difficult to explain what I felt. I loved him. I _truly_ loved him and I’d wanted him to say those words for over a decade. His timing was abysmal, I guess, or perhaps I just couldn’t reconcile his expression after so much heart ache, so much loss. Part of me felt betrayed, another part felt angry for Seven and another angry _at_ Seven.  
  
The truth is that I was in desperate need of counselling and had been for – well, probably about a decade.  
  
We avoided each other again after that. No, that’s not true. I avoided him until he gave up again. I hate myself _just_ for that. If I had faced what he was telling me, if I had listened to him then maybe our last years wouldn’t have been so agonising.


	6. Chapter 6

As the years wore on I visited Tuvok regularly, adhering closely to the Doctor’s recommendation that I keep my visits consistent and uniform. The more strictly his days were structured, the slower his decline would be. I still held hopes that we would stumble across a miracle somewhere along the road.  
  
His deterioration was slow. At first he merely seemed a little obsessive about details. Then he began to forget small things, like the name of a shipmate he’d once served with or a planet he’d visited. His frustrations became more and more obvious over time, as did his emotional outbursts.  
  
It truly hit me about two months after my encounter with Chakotay that there wasn’t going to be any miracle for my friend. The Tuvok I had known and loved for so long was gone. He might as well have died in an away mission. Maybe that would have been easier to reconcile.  
  
But Tuvok will outlive us all. He just won’t live as Tuvok.  
  
On rare occasions he remembers something. He remembers details of Voyager’s trek. Or perhaps he’ll remember holding me before Chakotay’s wedding.  
  
I feel blessed at least, that he doesn’t forget the people close to him. He remembers T’Pel and his children. He remembers many members of the Voyager crew, he remembers me.  
  
I miss him, dearly.  
  
Our next year held little excitement; we found a stable wormhole that led seventeen thousand light-years back in the direction we had come.  
  
This might seem insignificant; however, if we had not been tossed forward by Q all those years ago we’d have run into it almost head on. There’s no chance we’d have missed it.  
  
I still wonder, to this day, whether Q did that on purpose. I haven’t seen him since that day, so I’ve been unable to ask.  
  
The wormhole seemed like a stab in the back to every member of the crew and they, like me, seemed to wonder how many others we’d missed by jumping forward. Had Kes thrown us past a wormhole home? Or maybe our slipstream tests had.  
  
The crew were angry. I understood why, hell, I was angry, I was upset, so much so that I began to call out for Q when I was alone. I wanted to rip the skin from his hide. We’d have saved seven years. We might even be home by now. The most heart-breaking realisation, though, we’d have saved eighteen lives.  
  
As though the universe wanted to punctuate our misfortune we lost another member of the crew just _days_ after our encounter with the wormhole. A random power fluctuation in the EPS relays blew out the holodeck controls on deck six, just as Paul Rollins was attempting to access a holodeck program. He was killed instantly, a small comfort to his twenty three year old daughter, who had lost her mother only months beforehand.  
  
I began to wonder what might have happened if I’d made him chief of security. He’d have been on the bridge at the time, on duty. Would someone else have had the holodeck at the time? No one really used them during the day. In all likelihood the problem would have been detected by Harry before anyone was injured.  
  
With the death of each member of my crew I felt responsible, of course, I assigned them to their departments, and I sent them on away missions. For some reason though, Rollins’ death felt personal. As though I’d slighted the universe itself and it was saying ‘he died because of you.’  
  
We were coming to the end of our fourteenth year.  
  
Depression clung to the air of the corridors like a foul odour. A scent so hideous no one wanted to talk about it. There were fights between members of the crew for no good reason. I think the moment I realised just how bad it had become was when Crewman Dalby attacked Lieutenant Kim in the mess hall, for ‘stealing his seat’.  
  
Chakotay was inclined to just throw Dalby in the brig and leave him there, but that wouldn’t solve the problem. I _had_ to figure out a way to counsel my crew, to boost morale, _anything_.  
  
I brought the dilemma to the senior-staff briefing. Everyone had such maudlin expressions I wasn’t sure any good ideas would be forthcoming.  
  
B’Elanna suggested another shore leave. She hadn’t really had any time off, thanks to the overhaul. I was inclined to agree, if just for her. But her suggestion was shot down by both Harry and Tom who claimed the crew just wanted to get home.  
  
That was hardly something I could just make happen. Ayala suggested a Christmas party might boost spirits. I wasn’t opposed to the idea. B’Elanna however growled about the inequality of being forced to celebrate a Human holiday and despite Mike’s suggestion that we change it to ‘end of year celebration,’ the idea was dropped.  
  
We ran through a dozen ideas before I finally realised what the true problem was. We needed counselling. In truth I’d known that for _years_. Finally the stress, the depression, the fatigue and death were becoming too much for people to bear.  
  
So I made my decision.  
  
Over the years Starfleet had worked on boosting the signal strength of pathfinder and were able to maintain the connection for longer. We had one full week each month of constant contact with Earth, not that we could use it immediately.  
  
Starfleet were _surprised_ by the request. They’d been under the idiotic and misguided impression that we were on some kind of holiday cruise. Thankfully the dean of Starfleet Medical was not so moronic and arranged counselling all the while wearing something approaching an ‘I told you so,’ expression when she talked with Admiral Hayes and Anderson.  
  
I spoke to them and organised for each member of the crew to begin counselling sessions.  
  
I could have punched Admiral Hayes that day. If I had been face to face with him, I think I would have.  
  
Our request was processed and we began our sessions that week. Though it would only be an hour a month, each member of the now one hundred, thirty seven strong crew would be able to receive counselling. I made them mandatory with few exceptions. I couldn’t afford for a single serving member of the crew, myself included, to miss them.  
  
My sessions were revealing. At first I was reluctant to talk, preferring instead to listen to what the counsellor had to say. Eventually though, she broke through to me. After five sessions we had discussed my guilt, my fears for my crew and – Chakotay.  
  
She understood my decision to keep him at an arm’s length for so long, though she pointed out that it might not have served me best. A good deal of that fifth session was spent discussing why it wouldn’t have been a problem if I’d been in a relationship with him – I continually tried to change the subject. Obviously this wasn’t something I wanted to hear. She was years too late to help on that front.  
  
In the end I felt worse than I had, but I felt that I needed to apologise, to my ‘closest friend.’  
  
My arrival at his quarters seemed quite a shock for him. After his initial reaction he recovered well and invited me in and offered me a coffee. I accepted and stood dumbly trying to figure out where I needed to start.  
  
He motioned to his couches and we sat as I searched for the right words.  
  
I’d hurt him more times than I wanted to admit. So I began at the beginning.  
  
“I don’t expect you to forgive anything, Chakotay,” I told him.  
  
He seemed to know exactly what this was and allowed me to speak, uninterrupted for some time.  
  
I told him that I missed him, I told him that I hated the way I’d treated him. I spoke of my regret at having missed my opportunity with him. I made him cry.  
  
He had his own turn. He missed me too. He wished he hadn’t abandoned me and he too regretted that we’d missed our opportunity.  
  
We were both in a significant amount of pain, so much that we couldn’t air everything that night. We did cry into each other’s shoulders and promise to make an attempt to repair our friendship. This task seemed almost insurmountable. There was so much hurt on both sides, but once upon a time we’d been almost inseparable. We had the motivation to try again. We were much better as a team, a fact we’d proven time and again.  
  
The counselling seemed rather successful. To say that the morale of the crew improved would be a significant understatement. People were happy again for the first time in years, we even managed to get through the death of William Telfer without any fights breaking out.  
  
Billy’s death had been caused by a viral infection that had been missed by the bio-scanners. The Doctor madly rushed to check the rest of the crew discovering the infection in three other people, the rest of that away team, Chakotay included.  
  
Having just made the step toward recovering our friendship I took his illness hard, despite the fact that he spent less than a day in sickbay. I was reminded of all of the reasons I’d chosen not to pursue a relationship with him all those years ago. Despite the counsellor’s insistence that it would be alright I made my mind up once again. Revealing my affections for him would have to be enough, cruel, but enough.


	7. Chapter 7

If I could summarise my regret in one word it would be: Chakotay. But we’ll get to that in a bit.  
  
Over the next couple of years I began to grey. My family, well my mother’s side of the family seemed to keep their colour until late in life. I considered dying the follicles to give myself a few more years, but decided to grey naturally – _unlike some people_.  
  
My dinners with Chakotay became more frequent, until eventually we were having dinner together every night. He never pushed, not once. He enjoyed the time we spent together and he had accepted the fact that we could only be friends.  
  
I appreciated his distance, but I appreciated his friendship more. I know that, by this stage, I was in no state to be emotionally involved with anyone. That doesn’t stop the heartache, though.  
  
Voyager suffered through four more deaths before we reached Earth. When I say reached, I of course mean, crawled toward. Willow Harper and Amaya Kyoto were killed in a shuttle crash. The damage was so extensive we couldn’t salvage anything from the vessel.  
  
Michael Parsons was killed in an engagement with the T’Muri. He had been in engineering and pushed B’Elanna out of the way of falling debris.  
  
Last and, by no stretch of the imagination least, Chakotay died from ‘stress induced cardiomyopathy’. He died of a broken heart. We were weeks from Federation space and only two and a half months from home.  
  
I think he knew it was coming. He came to see me the night before he passed; telling me he wasn’t certain he’d make it for dinner the next night. At the time I had no idea what he meant. In all honesty I thought he intended to stand me up.  
  
He told me again how sorry he was for abandoning me and that he knew how much his relationship with Seven had hurt me. He declined to discuss her much. Whether he loved her or felt ashamed for marrying her while he was in love with me, I will never know. So many questions burned in my mind, but I stupidly thought I would have the time to ask them.  
  
At the very least I gave him one thing. I held his hand that night, I kissed his cheek and I told him that I’d loved him for about twenty years. At least I gave him that.  
  
I couldn’t bury him in space. We put him in stasis and held his funeral once we reached Earth. I buried him in Indiana, on my family property, under _my_ tree.  
  
I visit his grave as often as I visit Tuvok.  
  
Sometimes I will talk to him. I’ll sit and tell him how my life is slowly progressing. I’ll talk to him of my time as an Admiral and how I miss Voyager. How much I miss _him_.  
  
Sometimes I merely sit quietly and read to myself, or to him. I never did get to lend him the Parables of a Stolen Night.  
  
There are times that I forget what he might say, how he might respond to a question or a comment. Or I forget what his beautiful smile looked like or about his cheeky sense of humour. Those are the times that I cry.  
  
But I never truly forget him. How could I?  
  
You couldn’t possibly understand. You still have a chance.  
  
I don’t believe in fate or soul mates. But I truly believe that in nine out of ten universes Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay are happily married. They have a dozen children. They smile and hold each other whenever they feel the inclination. _That_ Kathryn Janeway made the wise and enviable choice to ignore her self-imposed protocols and follow her heart.  
  
I wish I was one of the lucky ones.  
  
Life after Voyager’s return was difficult to say the least. The crew, twenty three years distant from their memories of Earth, Starfleet and the Federation, suffered from severe culture shock. Some couldn’t handle it. The worst of which, Tal Celes, Lucas Culhane and Andy Jarvin were each committed to Starfleet medical facilities for treatment. Tal seems to be doing alright.  
  
A number of the former crew disappeared once we returned. They cut ties with the crew and their families and haven’t been heard from since the end of our debriefings.  
  
The best I can say is that everyone was pardoned. Starfleet considered Voyager as time served for Tom, the Maquis and the former Equinox crew.  
  
There are currently forty three people, who actively served aboard Voyager, that are still alive and talking to the crew now.  
  
This is an abridged version of Voyager’s struggle through the Delta Quadrant.  
  
I didn’t tell you about the time B’Elanna was so severely injured in an away mission she was in a coma for six weeks. I didn’t tell you that she lost the ability to conceive more children, though she and Tom had been talking about having another baby.  
  
I didn’t tell you that three members of the crew were taken captive and tortured for six hours while we frantically tried to get them back – Harry wasn’t really the same after that. He hardened. In a way that event made him the Captain he is today, but it broke him, he lost so much of his life, his jubilance.  
  
Nor did I tell you about the Antari invading Voyager, almost succeeding in taking her and the way they treated the crew they had captured. I was lucky, so many others were not.  
  
There were many more heart-breaking and morale shattering events in our life out there. I was not the only person to suffer and I certainly was not the person to suffer the worst.  
  
I hang a lot of my hopes on this letter. I can’t force you to heed this warning. I can’t force you to upgrade Voyager with the attached schematics. I can’t force you to be honest with yourself, or Chakotay.  
  
I can implore you however, as the woman who lived this, to consider what I’ve said.  
  
If this works, if you’re reading this then please don’t let your story end this way. Don’t let everyone slip away. Be one of the lucky ones, don’t accept being alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Kathryn stared in stunned silence at the PADD she had just read through. Her mind taking its time to compute the information provided.  
  
The letter had been piggybacked on her last communique from Starfleet and had been so heavily encrypted Kathryn had spent the entire night trying to decode it. As a last ditch effort she had decided to use her personal decryption algorithm, which, to her surprise, had worked.  
  
A few minutes passed before she registered something rather important. She leapt up, slapping her comm badge, “Janeway to Chakotay!” she barked.  
  
“Chakotay here, Captain,” he responded.  
  
She had lost all sense of time while reading the letter, but an away team was due to leave at zero seven hundred hours. The team would be carrying out Voyager’s first assignment from Starfleet since they’d become lost in the Delta Quadrant.  
  
“Commander, I’m aborting the away mission and I want the senior-staff available for a briefing in thirty minutes,” she snapped.  
  
“Captain?” he questioned.  
  
“I’ll explain everything in the briefing,” she responded vaguely. _No_ , she most certainly wouldn’t explain everything. She wasn’t even certain _what_ she’d tell them.  
  
“We’ll see you in half an hour,” Chakotay replied, sounding more than a little confused.  
  
Her eyes flicked to the chronometer and she gaped, zero six, fifty three. Another ten minutes and it might have been too late.  
  
Tapping her comm badge again, to close the channel, she snatched another PADD from nearby. She needed to copy the schematics to another device. If, of course, she did intend to show it to the crew, she wasn’t about to show them the whole message.  
  
As she made the transfer she examined the schematics, stunned by the level of technology. Multi-phasic weaponry, ablative hull armour and a slip-stream drive. Her older self certainly hadn’t skimped on the detail.  
  
Just these three upgrades would make Voyager’s journey significantly easier. That being said she could hardly walk into the briefing room and claim ‘they just came to me in the night.’  
  
With an anxious frustration she began to pace next to her dining table. If she passed any of this information on to the crew she would be breaking the temporal prime directive. But how could she not? Knowing the difficulties Voyager would face getting home, could she really just ignore these advancements?  
  
She had no doubts about the validity of the letter, she, or a future version of herself had certainly written it. The language used, the encryption code and the fact that it arrived hours before the mission Starfleet ordered, could all attest to that fact. So the schematics provided would work. A fully functional slip-stream drive could have Voyager home in less than a year, installation included. The multi-phasic weapons and ablative hull armour would significantly improve Voyager’s chances of making it.  
  
_But_ , if she told the crew where she had discovered the schematics the crew would log the information in their reports. While she may be able to persuade the crew they didn’t need to see the letter she would have no such luck with Starfleet. When Voyager returned to Earth Starfleet would demand to view her message.  
  
As she paced she ran through the pros and cons. The pros were obvious, Voyager would get home, they’d likely make it with few, if _any_ more casualties and they would bring with them technology Starfleet would salivate over. The cons, she would be breaking the temporal prime directive, the temporal police mightn’t even allow her to do so and she’d surely face a court-martial when they returned, where her letter might be entered into evidence.  
  
There was no doubt in her mind. Personal heart-ache and embarrassment were easily worth the lives of twenty four people and the sanity of the rest of her crew.  
  
She sighed as she made up her mind.  
  
If anyone knew how to manipulate Kathryn Janeway toward their goals it was Kathryn Janeway. A part of her wondered how much of that story was true, would twenty four more people really die, would Harry really be tortured, B’Elanna lose the ability to have move children – would Chakotay _really_ marry Seven?  
  
Whether or not this was manipulation, however, was not something she’d be willing to put to the test. So she made her decision. More accurately, she came to a conclusion. Voyager would use the schematics provided and – well, Kathryn would take whatever came her way.  
  
Her consideration of the letter had her pacing to distraction. So much so she almost forgot to look at the time again. She was due on the bridge in two minutes.  
  
Kathryn drew a deep, encouraging breath and stepped out the door.  
  
Voyager seemed silent this morning, normally around this time there would be crew running around, trying to fit in breakfast before their shift. Today was different, however. The silence felt as though the ship was holding its breath in anticipation of the briefing. That was ridiculous of course, no one else could possibly know what she was about to announce.  
  
The senior-staff were absent from the bridge when she arrived. They liked to arrive before she did. In truth she preferred that as well.  
  
When she reached the doors she had to take another calming breath before entering.  
  
B’Elanna appeared half asleep. The rest however sat attentively, though none bothered to hide the confusion in their expressions.  
  
She marched to the head of the table and stood behind her chair. This had become something of a habit during important briefings. Something to let the crew know that today’s decision would not be simple. The action grabbed their attention as surely as if she’d phasered a hole in the floor. Everyone, B’Elanna included, sat straighter in their chairs.  
  
A familiar look passed between them. She could see the question in their eyes, _what was so important the Captain cancelled the first mission assigned to us by Starfleet?_  
  
To put them at ease, or maybe to put herself at ease, Kathryn smiled, genuinely, before she passed the PADD in her hand to Chakotay.  
  
“I received a letter piggybacked onto the most recent pathfinder communique -” she began.  
  
“Impossible,” Seven stated, “I would have noticed.”  
  
Kathryn smirked, “the person who sent this letter hid it quite effectively.”  
  
Chakotay, who had been looking over the PADD, suddenly sat straighter in his chair. “Is this what I think it is?” he exclaimed.  
  
Though cryptic, Seven and Chakotay’s statements earned the senior-staff’s interest. A couple of them stared at the PADD in Chakotay’s hands as though hungry.  
  
Finally Harry couldn’t take it anymore, “what is it?” he asked.  
  
Kathryn smiled at him, “schematics for multi-phasic shielding, ablative hull armour,” she paused intentionally for effect, earning a slight head-shake from Chakotay. “And a slip-stream drive.”  
  
“What!” B’Elanna darted forward snatching the PADD from Chakotay’s hands as Tom whistled, impressed. Harry stared almost dumbly at her and Tuvok and Seven exchanged a curious glance.  
  
Thankfully, for B’Elanna, Chakotay appeared too shocked to react to her insubordination.  
  
“This is a joke, isn’t it?” Tom asked, “I mean, if it is, as jokes go, it’s not a very funny one, Captain,” he added with a frown in B’Elanna’s direction.  
  
“My god,” B’Elanna whispered, “we were so close,” she added again, before passing the PADD along to Harry.  
  
He seemed almost tentative as he took the device.  
  
“May I ask, Captain, who sent you the schematics?” Tuvok asked.  
  
Kathryn considered lying. She could, she might be able to get away with _I don’t know_ , but anything short of the truth and her crew would investigate. If she wanted to assure them that the schematics were genuine, if she wanted to save them time on testing, then she had to tell them the truth.  
  
They sensed her hesitation, but she didn’t want them to worry. She cleared her throat, “I received a letter from myself, or a future version of myself.”  
  
Oh, that killed the mood.  
  
Harry placed the PADD on the table as though the discontinued contact would save him from being implicated in her crime. The others stared at it as though it might burn its way through the table.  
  
“A future version of yourself?” Tuvok question.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“I do not believe that is possible, Captain,” he stated.  
  
She opened her mouth to argue that it most certainly was, but Harry was rather quicker on the uptake than she.  
  
“Yeah, I – I think Tuvok’s right,” the young man agreed. He, of all people, knew that one could most _certainly_ receive a letter from the future.  
  
“You know, I bet if we scanned the letter we’d find that it was actually sent by the – Tomiians,” Chakotay interjected. He’d made the species up off the top of his head. “That friendly and technologically advanced race we met a few months back,” he added.  
  
Kathryn couldn’t help but smile at them.  
  
“Unfortunately the original message has been damaged. We will be unable to ascertain its origin,” Seven stated after a prompting nod from the Doctor.  
  
“I appreciate this, I really do,” Kathryn began, “but I am happy to face the consequences of this, whatever they may be.”  
  
“Consequences of _what_ , Captain?” Tuvok asked. “I do not believe there are any laws against utilizing technology provided to us by a friendly and advanced culture.”  
  
She couldn’t help but smile.  
  
Vulcans _can_ lie.  
  
Kathryn couldn’t believe their level of commitment. She wondered how long this comradery would have lasted in their alternate future. From the details in the letter she wasn’t certain that crew would have offered to perjure themselves like this, certainly not for her.  
  
If it all came out, they could be in serious trouble, but she could head that off. Ultimately, if anyone were going to get in trouble she alone would take the blame.  
  
So they concocted a story of the Tomiians, a xenophobic, yet friendly species that Voyager assisted against the Borg. Once they were through Tomiian territory they were asked to remove all evidence of their culture from Voyager’s computer. One of their scientists felt indebted to Voyager and so a few months later decided to send the crew something to assist them in their journey home.  
  
They would tell the crew that the Tomiians forced the senior-staff to erase their memories. That was cruel, Kathryn objected, as did the Doctor and Chakotay, but if Starfleet were going to buy into the story, this was an easier route to take. Ask a hundred and fifty people to lie and one of them was bound to get it wrong. Eight people, however, were a whole lot less likely to make that mistake.  
  
Eventually they returned their focus to the schematics.  
  
“How long would it take to upgrade the shields, weapons and warp core?” Kathryn asked B’Elanna.  
  
The chief engineer smiled, “two months, less if we can set down somewhere,” she answered.  
  
Kathryn’s gaze flicked to Seven, “can you find us a suitable location to land so we can make these modifications?”  
  
Seven nodded, “I will begin searching immediately,” she agreed.  
  
Kathryn was almost ready to dismiss them, until Tom interrupted, “Captain, I hate to ask, but what about the mission Starfleet gave us?”  
  
In their excitement the rest of the senior-staff seemed to have forgotten this. She’d forgotten about it entirely.  
  
“Lieutenant Carey would have died,” she revealed.  
  
Each of them displayed their own level of shock. From B’Elanna who paled visibly, to Tuvok who cocked his head to the side with a pensive frown.  
  
She wasn’t sure, but it seemed they were just beginning to understand her earlier statement about having received a letter from her future self. She watched each of them mull their near miss over in their minds.  
  
“The planet _is_ highly irradiated,” Chakotay said after a moment.  
  
Harry began to nod his agreement.  
  
“Radiation levels are higher than I would recommend,” the Doctor stated simply.  
  
They reached a consensus. She knew that when their reports were forwarded to her they would all read that the probe was lost on a planet with high levels of radiation and was deemed unreachable by the crew.  
  
Kathryn stood straight, though she didn’t loosen her grip on the back of the chair. “Seven, let me know if you find a suitable planet,” she requested.  
  
The young woman bowed her head and her staff began to stand, taking that as a dismissal, as intended.  
  
She watched as they began to leave, eyes falling on Chakotay and before she knew what it was doing her mouth called out to him. “Commander.”  
  
She blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly when he turned back toward her.  
  
In thanks she gave him a small smile which he returned, though his was tight and more than a little hesitant.  
  
_Could she be too late to repair their friendship?_ She couldn’t stand the idea that they would abandon each other so readily, not after everything they’d been through. She just wanted her friendship back. At least, that’s what she told herself.  
  
She waited for the doors to close behind Tom, the last member of the senior-staff to leave. When they hissed shut she met his eyes, or tried to and requested, “have dinner with me,” she stated.  
  
Chakotay seemed a little taken aback. A dinner invitation seemed to be the _last_ thing he expected. “I thought we were forgoing our dinner this week,” he responded in a tight and uncomfortable tone.  
  
She gave a hurt frown before she could stop herself and he sighed.  
  
“What is this about?” he demanded. He hadn’t moved away from the door and appeared ready to walk out if he didn’t like her answer.  
  
The letter had told her why he was angry, but she could hardly apologise to him without acknowledging why he was angry. With a tentative step around the chair she put her hands up in a placating gesture. Desperately she tried to think of a way to get him to accept, if push came to shove later she could reveal what she knew.  
  
“We haven’t spent much time together lately,” she attempted, “I miss our dinners.”  
  
He sniffed an ironic laugh and shook his head, “really?”  
  
“Yes,” she snapped. Her voice sounded a little angrier than she intended.  
  
“So this has _nothing_ to do with that letter?” he challenged.  
  
She was tempted to play on Tuvok’s comment that there hadn’t been a letter. At the moment she doubted he’d be so eager to play along.  
  
“Of course it does,” she admitted in a breath. Her shoulders sagged and she hung her head, unable to face him.  
  
He remained silent for a quite a while, assessing her perhaps. She felt certain he was going to leave, but he broke the silence, “fine, but I’m cooking.”  
  
She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She hadn’t had a good meal in some time, let alone one of Chakotay’s dinners.  
  
“I’ll see you this evening,” she agreed. She kept her tone soft and looked at him, a small, hesitant glance. At best he seemed accepting, she wasn’t certain how this boded for them, but at least he hadn’t outright refused.  
  
He began to make a move for the door again.  
  
“Oh,” she stopped him again.  
  
With a slight sigh to turned to face her.  
  
“I was wondering if you’d help me with something in about half an hour?”


	9. Chapter 9

Kathryn returned to the bridge and immediately requested for Tuvok to join her in her ready room. He seemed unsurprised by her request and followed without hesitation.  
  
“Would you like a drink?” she offered.  
  
“Tea, please,” he requested. He made his way to the couches and took his usual seat as she brought their drinks over.  
  
She wasn’t entirely too sure how to start this conversation. He was ill. He was losing his mind, or so the letter said.  
  
Cupping her coffee in both hands, she found herself staring into the depths of the liquid as she attempted to form her thoughts into words. She took too long.  
  
“I know why you have asked me here, Captain,” Tuvok stated.  
  
She met his eyes, noting the reluctance in his gaze. He didn’t want to speak about this. Vulcans by nature were private people. She knew one day he’d have told her, she had evidence to prove that, but he likely had no intention of doing so until it affected his ability to perform his duties.  
  
“So it’s true?” she questioned.  
  
He cocked a brow before nodding, “I assure you, Captain, I would have been able to perform my duties for several more years,” he began.  
  
She clamped her mouth shut, about three was hardly several.  
  
“Assuming that the slip-stream drive does indeed have us home within the next year, I will be able to receive the treatment I need, once we return,” he continued.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. Though she kept her tone light and compassionate she cringed at how pushy she’d sounded.  
  
He drew a considerate breath before responding, “I did not wish to worry you unnecessarily, I did not wish to add to your burden, as Captain,” he told her.  
  
Kathryn considered the letter she’d received, she thought about Tuvok coming to her future-self before Chakotay’s wedding. She, of course, had been more than willing to allow him to shoulder some of her burden.  
  
She reached out and took his hand, “you’re my friend Tuvok.”  
  
“Friend or not, you would have been unable to assist me,” he responded. “Logically it was best for me to keep my illness to myself, the distraction for you could have proved too great,” he added after a moment’s consideration.  
  
She wanted to point out the dozen reasons this decision was _illogical_ , that she’d have been blind-sided, that he might have shown symptoms earlier than he expected. Or perhaps that she was his friend and she deserved better. Out of respect for him and his declining mental state, however, she decided to keep her mouth shut.  
  
“A year will be enough time?” she reiterated his earlier statement as a question.  
  
Tuvok nodded, “it will.” He watched her for a moment as she reconciled what she had almost lost in her mind. She almost felt relief until he spoke again.  
  
“Captain, I know you have faith that the slip-stream drive will work. However there is still a chance we will not succeed.”  
  
She stared at him wondering whether he was being pessimistic or pragmatic. They had been through this countless times. Home had been dangled before them like a carrot on a stick and they’d taken the bait on most occasions. Despite her certainty that the letter had indeed come from a future version of herself there was still every chance this could be a trap.  
  
“In other words, don’t celebrate until we’re in Earth’s orbit?”  
  
His brow arched and he nodded once again.  
  
“Prudent advice,” she complimented with a small smile.  
  
“Indeed,” he agreed.  
  
They spent a while bonding as they discussed their situation. Kathryn realised that they hadn’t spoken like this for some time. She hoped her future-self had reconnected with him, before his degradation. The idea that she’d pushed her two closest friends away, stung. She couldn’t understand how she managed without them.  
  
Kathryn had almost forgotten about the other piece of business she had organised. She jumped when the door chimed and gave Tuvok and embarrassed frown.  
  
They both stood, “come,” she requested.  
  
“I shall take my leave, Captain,” Tuvok spoke as Chakotay and Harry entered. They moved to the side of the room allowing him to leave and Kathryn waited for the door to hiss closed before inviting them up to the couches.  
  
They declined drinks, which was probably a good thing as Kathryn had just finished her third cup of coffee.  
  
Harry and Chakotay took the empty couches. The young ensign seemed to have no idea why he was here, which was good.  
  
“How are you, Harry?” she began in an effort to put him at ease.  
  
“Ah, good Captain,” he responded. His gaze flicked between Kathryn and Chakotay and she could see his mind racing, trying to figure out what was going on.  
  
This event had been long in the works. Honestly it had been a long time coming.  
  
During their latest rounds over evaluations she and Chakotay had toyed with the idea of promoting Harry. He certainly deserved it. The only real case against his promotion had been the number of other ensigns who had served in Starfleet much longer than he. Samantha Wildman, for instance, had been an ensign for ten years. Voyager didn’t have a lot of room for advancement, or at least, it hadn’t until now.  
  
“That’s good,” she responded. Her eyes flicked to Chakotay who wore a broad and proud grin, he was going to spoil it. Then again, she could feel her own smile.  
  
She paused as the young man considered their expressions.  
  
“Harry,” she began. He seemed to suspect what she was about to say and jumped when she spoke, a slight grin lighting his face. “We had planned to tell you at the next round of evaluations,” she added.  
  
He certainly knew now why he was here.  
  
Kathryn decided to drop the preamble and proffered her hand to Harry, “congratulations, Lieutenant,” she said.  
  
He grabbed her hand as enthusiastically as she’d ever seen. “Thank you, Captain!” His excitement showed in pitch and volume and he gave an apologetic grimace before turning to Chakotay.  
  
“Commander, thank you!” he added with a little less fervour.  
  
Chakotay shook his hand and Kathryn watched on, delighted by his enthusiasm.  
  
“That’s not all,” Chakotay spoke before Harry had the time to calm down.  
  
Kathryn smiled as the Commander continued, “we’re skipping you a grade, to lieutenant senior.”  
  
Harry’s eyes darted to her as though to confirm and all but jumped into her arms as she nodded. “Thank you!” he exclaimed again.  
  
“You’ve earned it, Harry,” Kathryn told him with a firm hug.  
  
“A dozen times over,” Chakotay added.


	10. Chapter 10

The day had been busy, full of meeting after meeting with members of the senior staff. B’Elanna dropped by shortly after Chakotay and Harry left. They ran through a comparison of the slip-stream schematics that had been sent with the letter and their last telemetry readings.  
  
After nearly two hours of discussion they discovered where they’d gone wrong the last time. B’Elanna had been right in the briefing, they had been so close.  
  
Shortly after B’Elanna left, the Doctor stopped by with concerns about his wellbeing once they returned home.  
  
Kathryn hadn’t even thought about it. To her he was as much a person as anyone on the ship, certainly now. Old prejudices had been discarded years ago.  
  
This issue was something she should have been planning for. He deserved as much attention as the Maquis, Tom Paris and the Equinox crew, all of whom were likely to face hearings or even trials once they returned to the Alpha Quadrant.  
  
Her lapse, in this case, angered her.  
  
What if Starfleet wanted to decompile him? He’d asked. She dismissed that idea, though that would be the easiest way for engineers to discover why he’d advanced so far beyond his programming.  
  
What if they kept his holoemitter from him? That point had validity. After all, the technology used to create the emitter came from the twenty ninth century. He may be out of luck on that front, though she would fight tooth and nail for him.  
  
His third question tugged at her mind for the remainder of the day, and would likely plague her until she managed to get a firm answer from Starfleet. What if they didn’t consider him sentient? The Doctor was not the first artificial life form serving in Starfleet. Lieutenant Commander Data had had a trial to determine his rights as an individual; the Doctor had looked into it of course. Would the Doctor be put through the same sort of hearing?  
  
Kathryn assured him that she would do everything in her power to ensure that he was treated as well as the rest of her crew. But how would the rest of her crew be treated? With the exception of the Maquis, Tom Paris and the former Equinox crew Voyager had an alien from the far reaches of the Delta Quadrant, two former Borg drones and a crew that had been complicit in breaking the Prime Directive.  
  
The entire conversation put more doubts in her mind. _Had she adequately prepared for Voyager arrival in the Alpha Quadrant?_  
  
The remainder of the day was spent frantically going through her notes for the defence of each and every member of her crew, their merits, and their accomplishments. Even leverage she could hold over Starfleet, just in case their return didn’t quite go to plan.  
  
They could halt Voyager a hundred light-years from Earth, dismantle the upgrades and use them to ‘persuade’ Starfleet to pardon the crew. Or, worst case scenario Kathryn could make a bargain with Starfleet. She would gladly take the brunt of their wrath to save her crew from – whatever may be waiting.

***=/\=***

Distracted as she was she almost forgot about dinner. By pure happenstance she glanced at the chronometer on the desktop monitor at eighteen hundred, forty three hours. After all of her worry about losing Chakotay’s friendship and she was going to be late.  
  
She closed the monitor and darted from the desk taking the deck one exit of her ready room. She didn’t run but she certainly didn’t dawdle.  
  
She didn’t bother heading to her own quarters first. She wanted to start their dinner on a positive note and tardiness wasn’t exactly a positive quality.  
  
Her hand pressed the buzzer with a good minute to spare. The door’s opened with a hiss at Chakotay’s authorisation and he glanced up from laying out place settings.  
  
“No wine?” he asked.  
  
Whoever wasn’t hosting dinner ‘traditionally’ brought the wine. Of course, Kathryn hadn’t had the time to head to her quarters first. “I wasn’t sure what you were serving,” she lied.  
  
He gave a light smile, “mushroom and spinach cannelloni,” he said in answer.  
  
She should have figured it would be mushrooms and pasta. They were two of Chakotay’s favourite foods.  
  
“I can grab a bottle now, if you’d like?” she offered.  
  
He shrugged, “I have plenty of rations,” he responded noncommittally before heading to the replicator. He tapped a command on the panel and their dinner appeared from stasis.  
  
“It’s a slightly different recipe,” he told her as he took the dishes out and placed them on the table.  
  
“It smells wonderful,” she said with a smile, taking her seat at the table.  
  
He wasted no time replicating their wine and poured them both a glass.  
  
She waited for Chakotay to be seated before taking her first bite. It never ceased to amaze her how incredible his cooking was. He was one of the few people she knew who took the time to cook the food himself, rather than replicating a whole meal. The results were always fantastic.  
  
“Delicious, thank you,” she told him softly.  
  
He gave a small smile, a nod and began to eat.  
  
At first Kathryn noticed nothing. They commonly sat in companionable silence whenever they ate together. Normally, however, once they’d had a comfortable serving of their meals they would move on to conversation.  
  
Tonight, however, Chakotay’s disposition had become uncomfortable. He wasn’t standoffish or rude he simply seemed disinterested in being there. He ate silently, he kept his eyes on his food, or his wine and he sat hunched in his chair.  
  
She attempted to draw him into various discussions. “Have you read any good books lately?” she enquired warmly.  
  
“Not for a while,” he answered.  
  
Her attention returned to her food for a short time before she asked her next question, “I’ve heard Tom’s got a new holodeck novel, a British naval scenario from the sixteen hundreds,” she prompted. He merely glanced up. “Have you tried it yet?” she added.  
  
“Not yet, no,” he responded.  
  
Kathryn realised she was fighting an uphill battle. She focussed on her meal feeling rather dejected. Had she truly been so thoroughly self-absorbed that she hadn’t noticed him pull away? Had she already lost him?  
  
The fork in her hand felt rather heavy, so heavy that she had to put it down. This, of all things, grabbed Chakotay’s attention.  
  
“You don’t like it?” he asked.  
  
“The meal is fantastic,” she responded.  
  
She hadn’t exactly _intended_ to convey her irritation but he obviously heard the undertone. He placed his own fork on the table and wiped his mouth with his napkin.  
  
“Maybe I should just go,” she folded her napkin and placed the cloth next to her plate. “Thank you for dinner,” she added, standing to make a hasty retreat.  
  
She made it no more than a step before he stopped her, “why did you come here, Kathryn?”  
  
Everything she wanted to say ran through her mind. She wanted to apologise for hurting him, she wanted to tell him that she cared for him, but the words wouldn’t form. After a moment she hung her head, irritated by her own inability to repair the damage she’d caused.  
  
“There must have been something in the letter,” he prompted.  
  
The letter bared her soul, said everything she wanted to and more, but couldn’t. Maybe she _should_ offer for him to read it... She could hardly deny anything it said. Letting him read the letter would be just as selfish, though. If he wanted to move on, she had to let him, the choice had to be his. So really, no matter what she did, she was being manipulative.  
  
She turned to face him again, not that she could quite look him in the eyes. He stood beside the table, expression stern, maybe even angry.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she muttered eventually.  
  
Maybe she could get away with a vague apology, salvage their friendship and, if they were in an ok position once they returned to Earth, pick up from there.  
  
“Why are you sorry?” he pressed.  
  
She licked her lips nervously, “I -” Her brain cut her off, an automatic reaction built from years of repression and denial.  
  
Chakotay sighed, “Forget it,” he mumbled. “Have a great night.”  
  
If she didn’t repair their relationship here how long would she have to wait for another opportunity?  
  
“I’m sorry that I invited Jaffen to stay aboard,” she whispered.  
  
He shifted almost uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Jaffen?” he asked.  
  
“I -” she considered what she had been about to say and amended, “it would have been unfair.”  
  
“For whom?” he barely wasted a breath before his response.  
  
“For him,” she answered carefully.  
  
Chakotay stiffened again.  
  
“I didn’t love him,” she said quickly. “I think I asked out of guilt.”  
  
“Why are you telling me this?” he pushed again.  
  
He knew. He had to know, he wouldn’t be so aggressive in pursuing her answers otherwise.  
  
She could feel his eyes boring into her, though she still hadn’t managed to meet them.  
  
She couldn’t think how to move the conversation forward. Evidently neither could Chakotay. They stood still for a rather prolonged and uncomfortable period of time before Kathryn realised this wasn’t going anywhere. With a sigh she turned back toward the door again.  
  
“Wait,” he stopped her again.  
  
Kathryn wanted to laugh, at this rate they’d be home before she managed to leave. She turned back again hoping to seem a little less exasperated than she actually was.  
  
“Why?” he asked simply.  
  
_Because I can’t lose you_ , she thought to herself.  
  
She wracked her brain for something she could say to salvage their friendship, something that skimmed the surface of the truth. She’d done so before. She wanted to think he’d understood the veiled meanings behind her past actions. “What I said three and a half years ago is still true today,” she admitted softly.  
  
For a moment she thought she might need to explain, until a small smile touched his lips.  
  
“Even when I disagree with you?” he asked through a hint of amusement.  
  
“Especially then,” she responded.  
  
They stood in silence once again. This felt a little different though. He seemed to be thinking about the implication of what she was saying. The awkwardness seemed to have abated, somewhat.  
  
Regardless of her current comfort level she knew that if neither of them spoke soon their ease would be short lived and they’d be back to her attempting to make an uncomfortable exit.  
  
Finally though, he drew a deep breath and broke their silence. “What I said four and a half years ago is still true today,” he revealed.  
  
Kathryn met his gaze. Her heart was racing, _when had that started?_  
  
“Even when I-” she paused and thought about their fights over the years, the worst of them were truly terrible. How could she ask whether he’d maintained his affections through them? She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.  
  
He seemed to sense her discomfiture and finished for her. “Even when you abandon your principles to fight for your principles,” he said. “Even when you abandon your common sense to protect this crew-”  
  
She folded her arms and gave him a pinch-lipped frown, which only made him smile, dimples and all.  
  
“Kathryn, I told you I would be by your side throughout this journey, nothing has changed.”  
  
She wanted to _kick_ herself. Her future-self had lied, that or future Chakotay had lied to her. He didn’t love her.  
  
Then again the sole reason she had come tonight was to salvage her friendship with him, which seemed to be exactly what she’d done. Why then did she feel as though she’d lost him?  
  
Her eyes flicked to the floor and she frowned, provoking a sharp sigh from Chakotay.  
  
“What do you _want_ me to say, Kathryn?” his tone turned almost aggressive and he threw his hands in the air.  
  
“I wanted my friend back,” she muttered, “I guess he _is_ back,” she added half-heartedly.  
  
He took a step toward her, “that’s not why you came here,” he challenged.  
  
She met his gaze again. Was he calling her out?  
  
“Don’t give me that look! I saw the disappointment on your face,” his tone wasn’t harsh exactly, though he seemed annoyed.  
  
Kathryn stared, stunned. “Why would I lie?” she evaded.  
  
“Because you’re you,” he answered immediately.  
  
She was taken aback by his response. Chakotay had never pushed her before, well, not on a personal issue. He’d always been accepting of her decision to put Voyager first.  
  
“That’s not fair,” she objected.  
  
“Isn’t it? I deserve to know your agenda here, Kathryn. You’re sorry you invited Jaffen to stay, you – you _can’t imagine a day without me?_ ” he moved closer, almost looming. “Yet you were disappointed now, when I told you I’d always be by your side. I’ve said it before, why is this time different?”  
  
Her heart picked up pace once again. She’d spent years avoiding this conversation. Ducking and weaving or pushing him away just so that she didn’t need to confront her feelings for him. But wasn’t that exactly what had gone wrong with them in the alternate future?  
  
_But_ Kathryn was still the Captain. Voyager was still stuck in the Delta Quadrant and this, like many of their other endeavours could still fail. Nothing had changed. _Almost_ nothing.  
  
“I just wanted to make sure we’re ok,” she reaffirmed quietly.  
  
How was it possible that she could take on an armada of Borg cubes and barely break a sweat but _this_ conversation sent her senses packing?  
  
“We’re a year from home,” he stated.  
  
“Maybe,” she countered. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him so she focussed her gaze on the window, over his shoulder.  
  
“B’Elanna seems confident,” he added.  
  
“B’Elanna looked at the schematics for ten minutes,” Kathryn objected.  
  
“You seemed certain that letter was from you,” he continued.  
  
“That letter _was_ from me.”  
  
“Then why did you come here?” he pushed.  
  
Her eyes flicked to his, a mistake. His deep gaze held as much warmth and as much, dare she say, ‘love’ as they had when he’d told her his ‘ancient legend’.  
  
“I’m sorry I hurt you, after Quarra,” she breathed.  
  
She honestly couldn’t believe she’d said it and evidently from the look on his face neither could he. _His damn eyes!_  
  
Now that she had started she could hardly back down. “That was _never_ my intention,” her voice found confidence, though she wasn’t certain where the confidence was coming from. _Those damn dimples!_  
  
“I was…” she took a deep breath, “lonely.” _Why hadn’t her brain stopped her from talking yet?_  
  
Chakotay stood still and quiet, eyes focussed on her. He seemed uncertain how to respond, so she pressed on.  
  
Her mind flicked to one of the lines her future-self had written about her final moment with Chakotay. She told him that she loved him.  
  
_At least I gave him that._  
  
“He declined to stay aboard because of you,” she admitted. _She’d come this far._  
  
“Me?” he finally snapped out of his daze, obviously confused.  
  
Kathryn drew a shuddered, nervous breath. “When he saw you without the surgical makeup, when he saw your tattoo, he realised that I wasn’t in love with him,” she admitted. With all the confidence she could muster, she met his gaze hoping to convey everything she wanted to say, everything she’d said in that damned letter.  
  
To say that Chakotay appeared surprised would be an understatement. Lips parted and eyes wide he stared at her as though trying to confirm what she was saying was actually true. But patient as ever, or perhaps unable to articulate what he was thinking he remained silent.  
  
“He realised that I am in love with you.”  
  
The universe didn’t implode. Voyager didn’t suffer some cataclysmic event. No one interrupted over the conn. She even felt – _better_. Yes, definitely better. She smiled with the reduction of that weight on her shoulders, the freedom that those small words afforded.  
  
“You love me?” he asked cautiously.  
  
“Yes,” the admission came easy now. In fact, she felt as though she could say it again, “I love you,” she reiterated.  
  
He moved forward to place a hand on her cheek but as a reflex she stopped him.  
  
Despite her admission she _couldn’t_ buckle on her protocols now. They were still in the Delta Quadrant and she still needed to give one hundred percent of her attention to Voyager and her crew.  
  
Chakotay let out a frustrated sigh and Kathryn began to attempt to explain her position, but he spoke before she had a chance.  
  
“I’m sorry, our position hasn’t changed, I understand,” he said with a nod. He turned away and moved over to the cabinet sitting next to his replicator staring at the photos lining the bench.  
  
“No, I’m sorry Chakotay. I can’t give you what you want, out here,” she apologised.  
  
He turned and gave her a small, fond smile.  
  
“I do understand, Kathryn,” he said with a nod. His attention returned to the photos, to one in particular, from one of Neelix’ many celebrations years ago. “Do me one favour, though,” he requested. He picked something up from behind the frame, piquing Kathryn’s insatiable curiosity.  
  
She merely watched as he walked back to her.  
  
“In one year, or when we return to the Alpha Quadrant, I want to marry you,” he held up a beautiful, elegant platinum ring, a single petite diamond set in its frame. The ring appeared old, maybe centuries old and in a strange way it suited him.  
  
“Chakotay,” she breathed. Obviously she needed to refuse.  
  
He must have sensed her hesitation. He gave her another small smile, “The ring was my mother’s. It has been in her family for two hundred years, made from an Altearan diamond farmed by her great, great, great – er, great grandfather,” he explained.  
  
Kathryn stared at it, realising the significance of his gesture. The alternate future Chakotay hadn’t given Seven this ring. _This_ ring had sat behind a photo of Kathryn and Chakotay, together.  
  
“We haven’t even dated,” she blurted, feeling rather ridiculous the moment the words passed her lips.  
  
Chakotay’s eyes flicked to the dinner table and then back to her. He smiled questioningly. They’d spent basically all of their free time together for nearly five years now. Dating was hardly on the agenda.  
  
“Point taken,” she gave a small laugh.  
  
“I’ve seen you at your best and your worst and I am still by your side,” he told her. “The time I spend with you is the best time I’ve had, not just on Voyager, but in my life,” he added.  
  
A lump formed in Kathryn’s throat and she could feel the sting of tears in her eyes.  
  
“You’re my closest friend, I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he continued.  
  
A drop fell down her cheek as he spoke.  
  
“In a year I want to marry you, _regardless_ of where we are,” he told her with a brilliant, dimpled grin. “I love you, Kathryn,” he finished.  
  
She never imagined the reaction her body might have to those words from Chakotay. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her knees _actually felt weak_ , yet, at the same time, she felt as though she was floating.  
  
She stared at him trying to think of something to say. She _should_ say no; she couldn’t think about getting married while she was trying to get Voyager home.  
  
Once again he beat her to the punch, “you can’t keep going like this, Kathryn. It’ll tear you apart and I couldn’t bear to watch that happen to you.”  
  
He had no idea how close to the mark he’d hit with that comment.  
  
The connection between Kathryn’s brain and mouth seemed to have shut off. “Yes,” she whispered before her brain was able to quite comprehend the question being posed.  
  
With a broad grin Chakotay took her hand and threaded the band onto her ring finger, a perfect fit, as it turned out.  
  
His hand wrapped around hers, thumb lightly caressing her fingers as he stared lovingly into her eyes. She _wanted_ to take back everything she’d said earlier, she wanted to throw her arms around him, plant her lips to his and not come up for air until they arrived home. Therein lay her original issue, however.  
  
Somehow Kathryn had gone from desiring nothing more than a reconnection with her friend, to becoming engaged, all in the space of about an hour. The world made no sense, or maybe it made more sense?  
  
Despite her trepidation Kathryn exited Chakotay’s quarters overjoyed by the outcome.  
  
And if Voyager didn’t end up making it home – well, that was something she could contend with, should the need arise.


	11. Chapter 11

Seven wasted no time finding a suitable location to set down. The planet, fourteen light-years from their current location was a small, uninhabited, ‘M-class’ planet with an oxygen rich atmosphere. If that weren’t perfect enough the planet held a vast array of resources, food, a small quantity of dilithium, duranium and pergium. The quantities were not enough that Voyager would have made a stop there, under any other circumstance, but with the upgrades they would have time to mine and harvest enough to keep Voyager off replicator rations for a while.  
  
Kathryn entered engineering and tried not to sigh audibly when she saw B’Elanna on her hands and knees beside the warp core.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be on maternity leave, Lieutenant?” she asked on her approach.  
  
B’Elanna jumped a foot, barely missing the hand rail as she scrambled to her feet. “Captain, I was just-”  
  
“Having a hard time letting go?” Kathryn suggested with a wry grin. She caught Carey’s eyes and he gave a small, knowing smile from his console near the back of the room.  
  
“The team’s really-” she began to defend herself, but Kathryn broke in before she could finish again.  
  
“Under Mr Carey’s capable control,” she placed a hand on the engineer’s arm. “B’Elanna, you haven’t had a real break in years, relax,” she attempted.  
  
“Relax?” B’Elanna snapped, though her tone quieted after the first syllable. “There’s still so much to take care of before we land, I need to check the plasma manifolds to make sure they’re not going to rupture mid-way through the slip-stream upgrade. I need to create a manual backup of the main computer system, in case the buffers are damaged. I need to replace these,” she motioned to the warp core with a growl, “relays, before one of them _blows out_ and kills someone when we try to land.” She barely paused to breathe.  
  
“B’Elanna,” Kathryn began in a soothing voice. Keeping her hand on the Lieutenant’s shoulder she began to walk toward the door. “You have an incredible engineering team, they can handle this,” she offered calmly. B’Elanna walked absently with her until they reached the door before realising what was happening.  
  
She shrugged Kathryn’s arm away and gave an irritated frown. “Nice try, Captain,” she snapped, though not harshly.  
  
Kathryn sighed, “If you want to help, why don’t you go to the holodeck and help with the slip-stream simulations?” she suggested.  
  
B’Elanna raised a hand to object, but seemed to give up part way through, giving her own sigh. “Fine,” she agreed sounding less than enthusiastic.  
  
She watched B’Elanna stalk out of engineering before turning back to Carey.  
  
Voyager was due to touch down in less than six hours and Kathryn didn’t want the team to have any distractions while they worked. B’Elanna, though the most proficient engineer by a mile, would not be available during a bulk of the modifications. Kathryn wanted to ensure that Carey and the rest of the engineering staff were ready and able to make these changes without B’Elanna.  
  
“Sorry, Captain,” Carey said immediately, “I have been trying to get her to leave for hours,” he began. “Every time I tried to take a job off her she just found something else that,” he made air quotations with his fingers, “‘needed doing’.”  
  
“That’s quite alright, Mr Carey,” Kathryn said with a smile. Her gaze lingered on him for perhaps longer than appropriate before she returned her focus to the warp core.  
  
“Is everything alright, Captain?” he asked cautiously.  
  
Only the senior-staff were privy to the knowledge of his death. “Yes, everything’s fine,” she lied with a smile.  
  
He nodded in acceptance, but she sensed a slight hesitation from him. Before he had the opportunity to wonder on her distraction any further she decided to change the subject.  
  
“How are the preparations coming?” she asked.  
  
He glanced around as though running through a mental list of what he needed to report. “There’s still quite a lot of work to do, before we even land, but I’m confident we can have it done before we reach the planet,” he began.  
  
“What about B’Elanna’s concerns?” Kathryn pressed.  
  
He exhaled and frowned, “she’s right about the plasma manifolds and the relays could use replacing, but the backup isn’t really necessary,” he explained, “the chances that we’ll accidentally purge the computer core _and_ the auxiliary systems are – slim,” he added with a grin.  
  
Kathryn couldn’t help but smile as well. When B’Elanna had first become chief engineer she’d have argued against wasting time with the procedure like this. Now however, Voyager had become like B’Elanna’s child. She had become as overprotective about their ship as Kathryn had.  
  
“Do you need any help? I’m sure we can find some members of operations or security who aren’t too busy at the moment,” she offered. Whether he accepted or not she intended to send them down, the less time the upgrade took, the better.  
  
“Actually, that would be great, Captain,” he agreed sounding almost relieved.  
  
“I’ll have Harry and Tuvok send down some volunteers,” she told him.  
  
She turned on her heels and began to head out but turned before reaching the door, “and Lieutenant,” she stated, grabbing his attention again. “Please let me know if B’Elanna returns,” she requested.  
  
Carey gave a knowing smile and nod, “yes, Captain.”  
  
Engineering wasn’t the only team preparing for their arrival. Neelix had acquired a team to gather foodstuffs from the planet and Chakotay was preparing a small group to mine some of the ore while they were planet-bound. They had plenty of time. Voyager would be here for around two months, but the earlier they began mining, the better off the ship would be in the long run.  
  
She exited engineering and made her way to the turbolift. Neelix had been her first stop on the way here and on the way back to the bridge she would visit Chakotay’s office, to see whether he needed any additional crew members.  
  
Despite her attempts to focus on the task, she had been finding her time around Chakotay increasingly difficult to concentrate through. She had been in love with him for years without acting like a moron around him. Apparently admitting the truth had turned her brain into mush and that was exactly what she’d been afraid of.  
  
_What’s done is done_ , she thought to herself as she exited the turbolift onto deck 2. As long as she didn’t act too idiotic in front of the crew she would be fine.  
  
She tapped the chime to his office and waited for the door to open.  
  
Chakotay’s desk was crowded by Tom, Ayala, Kyoto, Baytart and Swinn, as well as Chakotay, of course. They all glanced up as she entered; making them privy to the broad grin that crossed her face when she laid eyes on Chakotay.  
  
If any of them thought anything odd by the look, they made no mention of it.  
  
At the very least she wasn’t the only one who seemed to be unable to contain their expression. Chakotay’s smile held more than a note of flirtation, though no one was looking at him.  
  
“Captain,” her first officer greeted her.  
  
“Commander,” she responded before giving the others a nod.  
  
Tom smiled and glanced at the floor, licking his lips. _Damn_.  
  
“How are your plans progressing?” she asked, ignoring the pilot’s expression.  
  
Chakotay obviously noticed Tom’s reaction as well. He rubbed his ear as though thoughtful, but appeared more uncomfortable than she’d seen before. “Our plans are going well, Captain,” he began.  
  
He moved from behind the desk and waved for the others to continue whatever they had been working on.  
  
They moved to the side, out of earshot, before he continued his report. “Honestly, we could use a couple more people,” Chakotay revealed.  
  
Kathryn nodded in agreement. Honestly she’d been hoping he’d ask.  
  
“I think I can arrange a few more crew members,” she told him.  
  
“It would be handy to have someone with a good understanding of mining practises,” he continued, “since B’Elanna’s not available, how about Seven?” he asked.  
  
Kathryn gave him an irritated look before she could stop herself. “Seven?” she all but snapped. Why did he want Seven? She’d be needed to assist with the installation of the new technology.  
  
“Well, she’s been involved in most of our mining operations since she came aboard,” he answered hesitantly. The poor man must have been genuinely confused by her reaction, with good reason.  
  
Kathryn mentally slapped herself before giving another smile, “she’s going to be rather busy with the upgrades,” she answered finally.  
  
“Or how about Tuvok, once he’s finished with the simulations?” Chakotay posed.  
  
“I’ll talk to him, at the very least he should be able to spare some security officers to accompany you,” she agreed.  
  
Chakotay’s face lit into a brilliant grin once again and she had a difficult time not responding in kind.  
  
_One year_ , she reminded herself.  
  
“I better get back to the bridge,” she told him. She spoke loud enough that the others could hear, regretfully.  
  
Tom jogged to her side as she made her way out, “I need to get back too,” he said with a shrug.  
  
While he was right, she knew he had an ulterior motive for accompanying her. He was one of the few people on the ship unafraid to push her on personal issues. She was about to be ambushed.  
  
They rounded the corner to the turbolift and she caught the knowing grin on his face. She ignored it to the best of her ability before they boarded the lift.  
  
“Bridge,” she requested. At least the trip was short.  
  
“So, you and Chakotay,” he said the _moment_ the door closed.  
  
“Are trying to get this crew home,” she dodged.  
  
“Oh, I’ll bet you are,” he replied suggestively.  
  
She fixed him with her finest ‘unimpressed glare’ and shook her head.  
  
“Come on, Captain. I saw how you two were looking at each other,” he teased.  
  
Well, he probably had her there.  
  
“There was no _look_ Mr Paris,” she lied, “you were imagining things.”  
  
He frowned in consideration, “you’re probably right,” he conceded, or at least, pretended to concede. “Congratulations, though,” he whispered as the doors opened onto the bridge.  
  
Kathryn rolled her eyes and exited, delighted to be away from that conversation.  
  
The bridge felt rather desolate today. The entire senior-staff were busy elsewhere, with other projects. So when they entered they were greeted by the smiling faces of Rollins, Wildman, Culhane and Swinn.  
  
Tom relieved Culhane, not without giving Kathryn another rather suggestive smile as he passed, and she assumed the Captain’s chair, ignoring him. On the bright side, she knew he wouldn’t mention anything while other crew members were around.


	12. Chapter 12

The modifications to Voyager proceeded with no issues, with the possible exception of B’Elanna going into labour around a month into the work while Tom was on a scouting mission for the mining team. He flew back to the ship and almost crashed, trying to park the Flyer in the shuttle bay, desperate to make it to his wife’s side before she gave birth.  
  
He made it, of course, with plenty of time to spare.  
  
According to the Doctor Tom was rather annoying during the labour, despite his medical training. He reported that, thankfully, with the exception of Tom’s presence, there were no complications, though B’Elanna was in labour for fourteen hours.  
  
The next day Kathryn made her way to sickbay, accompanied by Chakotay, to meet Voyager’s newest crew member. A baby girl named Miral for B’Elanna’s mother. The little girl looked just like her mother, the same deep eyes, olive skin tone and dark hair. She would be a beauty.  
  
Both mother and baby were doing well, despite Tom fussing over them every couple of minutes. ‘Do you need a drink?’ ‘Is she cold? I think she’s cold, I’m going to get her a blanket,’ and moments later, ‘she’s warm. Here, let me take the blanket.’  
  
After a short time, marvelling Voyager’s newest addition B’Elanna offered for Kathryn to hold Miral. Gently she cradled the baby in her arms, unable to stop the grin that tugged at her lips. Her tiny hand wrapped around Kathryn’s finger with a grip that should be impossible for a life-form so small.  
  
She saw everything Miral could be, every ounce of her potential as a celebrated engineer or pilot. Everything Miral could be, were Voyager not stranded in the Delta Quadrant. She deserved the very best life. Something Kathryn hadn’t been able to give Naomi yet.  
  
Before handing the newborn back to her mother, Kathryn made a silent vow to get her home so that she could live her life back in the Alpha Quadrant.  
  
B’Elanna passed Miral to Chakotay next. He held her close, smiling proudly at his friend. “She’s beautiful, B’Elanna,” he spoke softly. Kathryn nodded her agreement watching as Chakotay held Miral’s tiny hand in two fingers.  
  
“Yes she is,” the engineer responded in an equally quiet tone.  
  
He smiled brilliantly at Miral, seemingly mesmerised by her tiny form until the Doctor began to grumble that B’Elanna and her baby needed rest.  
  
He proceeded to kick them out, attempting to remove Tom as well.  
  
Tom refused to leave and a quiet argument broke out before the hologram finally relented.  
  
Kathryn and Chakotay were on their way through the door by this time, promising to return once B’Elanna was ‘well rested.’  
  
During the turbolift ride back to the bridge Chakotay was unusually quiet, though he continually passed thoughtful looks toward Kathryn. Eventually she relented, “one year,” she stated with a smirk.  
  
“It’s going to be one _hell_ of a long year,” he responded, grinning.  
  
She sighed, though she could hardly keep the smile from her face. He had looked rather beautiful with a child in his arms, after all. There was no doubt in her mind that he would make an incredible father.  
  
Midway through the thought he caught her eye and gave a dimpled smile, as though he knew exactly what she had been thinking. _Damn him!_ She shook her head and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of her shift – well, she _tried_ to ignore him.  
  
He managed to catch her eyes, with a wonderfully attentive expression, on a couple of occasions and all she could manage in response was a small smile.  
  
_Just one year_ , she reminded herself again. That had become something of a mantra for her. Though, more accurately it was more like, _just eight months_.  
  
At least they’d regained their friendship.  
  
Throughout their stay on the planet they had dinner almost every night that he wasn’t out with the mining team. They were able to take r’n’r together during Voyager’s last week of modifications, a skiing trip on one of the southern continents.  
  
They spent their time well, exploring the frozen plains, talking about everything they’d neglected to talk about over the months. She told him some of the events in the letter, her mother’s death and the sheer quantity of crew members Voyager had lost along the way.  
  
She could tell he had questions. In all likelihood he wanted to know what had prompted her to ‘change the nature of their relationship,’ but he remained quiet, content to listen to the stories she offered to tell.  
  
Despite their newfound connection he never once pushed her. Their time together felt as natural as it ever had, almost as though they were back on New Earth. As though they were going to build a boat and explore the river before working on a log cabin for themselves.  
  
She _almost_ gave in on the last night of their ski trip. The harm would be minimal, the modifications and resource gathering had gone remarkably well and Voyager’s first test flight with the new engines would be the next day.  
  
But she had made a promise to herself early on; her focus _had_ to be Voyager. She was the reason they were stuck out here and she’d be damned if she wouldn’t put all of her energy into getting them home.  
  
So she bade him goodnight and went to bed, hungrily anticipating Voyager’s return to Earth.

***=/\=***

During their first test, Voyager made a one hour jump, clearing little over six light-years with no complications. Kathryn couldn’t help but grin when Harry announced the distance travelled. Voyager could travel a conservative 144 light-years a day, _a day!_ Limiting their stops they could make it home in eight months, maybe seven if they were lucky.  
  
They decided to err on the side of caution, making additional small jumps to judge stress levels on the engines, the hull and the new ablative armour. After only a couple of days Voyager was underway.  
  
The morale of the crew had never been higher.  
  
Within the first week Neelix had organised a party to celebrate their success.  
  
Though only the senior-staff knew how they’d come across the advanced technology a number of crew members approached Kathryn with heartfelt gratitude for Voyager’s progress. She sensed that they must have had suspicions about the nature of the technologies origins, if that were the case, though, no one said anything.  
  
For the first time in years life seemed to be looking up for Kathryn and the crew. She was able to reconnect with Tuvok, realising just how lax she’d been with their friendship. He hadn’t exactly been interested in socialising over the past couple of years, to be fair. After discovering his diagnosis he’d sheltered himself as much as he could and Kathryn, of course, had been too preoccupied to notice. Her lapse in their friendship angered her deeply and she vowed to make up for it. She made an effort to dine with him every few days and catch up.  
  
After only a little prompting he opened up and began to tell her about his family and even about his condition. She should have noticed before now. She considered him a friend and she’d completely ignored the fact that he’d been significantly more emotional over the past couple of years. Granted most people wouldn’t have noticed, but the change, now that it had been pointed out, was obvious.  
  
She tried to spend as much time with her crew as possible, perhaps favouring those whose lives would have been lost, had they continued without the upgrades. Carey finished creating a model of Voyager in a bottle shortly after the tests. She witnessed the budding relationship between Kyoto and Baytart.  
  
A rather relaxing couple of weeks passed. Kathryn was delighted to hear that Baytart proposed to Kyoto in this timeline as well. They didn’t want to wait long, preferring to return married if at all possible. So Kathryn obliged hosting the ceremony in the beginning of their third week, after a brief stop for resources.  
  
Chakotay asked her to dance at the ceremony, a request she couldn’t refuse. She realised a large portion of the crew were staring. There were murmurs, nothing uncomplimentary on the plus side. At least once they returned to Earth the crew would be suitably prepared for their announcement.  
  
Their journey was mostly uneventful until two weeks later, Voyager jolted to a stop. Kathryn raced onto the bridge, almost afraid the engines had given out. “Report,” she snapped immediately. Red alert was flashing and a quick glance at the consoles showed that shields and ablative armour had been raised.  
  
“We’re under attack, three vessels, unknown configuration,” Tuvok announced.  
  
“On screen,” Kathryn requested. She moved to the banister in the centre of the bridge.  
  
Her future-self had not been wrong about the configuration of these ships. They were about the ugliest vessels Kathryn had ever laid eyes on, thankfully though, they were easily recognisable. “Fen Domar,” she whispered.  
  
She had made the senior-staff privy to few details from the letter, _this_ , the Fen Domar, had been one. The moment she spoke the name everyone seemed more focussed on their tasks.  
  
“Fire phasers, try to disable their engines,” she ordered.  
  
Tuvok complied disabling one of the vessels with relative ease. His focus switched to another, though this one appeared to have a rather more adept pilot at the helm.  
  
Tom’s piloting skills were among the best, unfortunately however, Voyager was not quite as manoeuvrable as the Fen Domar’s vessels. Tom had a difficult time flying evasively. The remaining two vessels flew erratically, seemingly uncaring whether they hit Voyager or each other. Tuvok still scored a few hits, managing to disable weapons on one of the ships.  
  
In the letter they had charged the moment they’d been disabled to the point that they were no longer able to fight. Kathryn didn’t _think_ their current position warranted a suicidal act, at least, not until it was too late.  
  
One of the Fen Domar vessels skimmed Voyager’s shields, before breaching and colliding with the left nacelle.  
  
Kathryn fell to the side as the ship shuddered, violently. Her arm _snapped_ as she hit the deck, sending a blinding, fiery pain shooting through her arm. She gritted her teeth and pulled herself to her feet.  
  
“Damage report,” she managed.  
  
“The ablative armour waylaid the brunt of the damage,” Harry began.  
  
He was interrupted by Tom, however, “Captain, I can’t shake the last one,” he announced. She watched the vessel perform much the same manoeuvre as the last and slapped her comm badge.  
  
“All hands, brace for impact,” she called out. Her announcement came not a moment too soon, the Fen Domar vessel skimmed the shields before ploughing into the Voyager’s fore section.  
  
From the impact Kathryn knew the damage from this ship would far exceed the last. She barely managed to hold to the banister. Her ribs slammed against the railing, something exploded behind her. A cacophony of sound disoriented her as she tried to pull herself to her feet again.  
  
She shook her head, attempting to clear her vision.  
  
“ _Captain!_ ” Chakotay’s voice called from her side.  
  
She barely had time to look up before her first officer barged into her, pushing her out of the way of a piece of hull plating. Lying prone, she was forced to watch the debris drop onto Chakotay.  
  
“ _No!_ ” she cried out futilely.  
  
Despite the pain and disorientation she pushed her way to him, Tom and Harry were at her side in an instant, assisting her in removing the chunk of metal. No easy feat with a useless arm, even with help.  
  
He was unconscious. She made a move to check his vitals but Paris beat her to it.  
  
“Harry, beam us to sickbay,” Tom snapped.  
  
Kathryn tried to ask whether he was alive but the words wouldn’t form.  
  
“You should go to sickbay too, Captain,” Tuvok stated.  
  
She didn’t have time to respond as Harry made it back to his post and transported the three of them away.  
  
The Doctor rushed over the moment they appeared. “Mr Paris, check on the Captain and then help me with the Commander,” he barked.  
  
Tom complied swiftly, snatching a medical tricauder from the nearby bench to scan her. He frowned, “Captain, I’m going to give you a sedative,” he told her.  
  
Kathryn was too busy watching the Doctor with Chakotay to really hear what he was saying. “You’ve got two broken ribs and your arm is broken, we’ll need to perform surgery,” Tom attempted to block her vision until she fixed him with a glare.  
  
“The best thing you can do for him now is let us take care of him,” he continued.  
  
_If she lost Chakotay now…_  
  
Reluctantly she nodded and bared her neck to receive a hypospray. The world began to dull and she barely had the time to lay down on a bio-bed before falling unconscious.


	13. Chapter 13

_“Happy anniversary, Kathryn,” Chakotay whispered._  
  
_She smiled as they tapped glasses and leaned back into his arms, glancing at the stars up above. The familiar star scape had become one of the most relaxing sights she could imagine. She used to visit the holodeck and sail Lake George at night, just for this view. Of course being able to do so for real, with her husband no less; certainly put those experiences to shame._  
  
_“Happy anniversary, Chakotay,” she responded._  
  
_“Did you ever imagine this?” he asked quietly._  
  
_She gave a small laugh, “see, this is why we’re married,” she replied._  
  
_He gave her a curious look._  
  
_“I used to imagine this all the time,” she revealed. “In fact, I was just thinking about that.”_  
  
_He grinned beautifully, “I suppose I probably wasn’t part of those daydreams?”_  
  
_She cupped his cheek with her free hand, “I always hoped you would be here.”_  
  
_He gave a small laugh, “always?”_  
  
_“Well,” she waved a hand dismissively and leaned back into his side, “maybe not always,” she teased._  
  
_He smirked and shook his head._  
  
_“You know,” she continued, “once or twice.”_  
  
_“Once or twice?” he commented._  
  
_“Maybe three times,” she joked. “But that’s all!”_  
  
_It was his turn to laugh, “You imagined us together three whole times out there,” he sounded impressed._  
  
_She sat up and gave him a rather frank look, before shaking her head, “oh no, I imagined us here three times,” she corrected. “I also imagined us in various other -” she paused, pretending to consider her words, “locations.”_  
  
_His brow rose, “well, you know I’m always up for travel,” he said with a grin._  
  
_She nudged him in the side and laughed, “Do you think about anything else?”_  
  
_He frowned thoughtfully and shook his head, “not really, no.”_  
  
_“Well, at least you’re honest.”_  
  
_He caressed her cheek with a finger, moving her gaze to his again, “with you, always.”_  
  
_She leaned forward, expectant and excited to taste his lips._

***=/\=***

Kathryn’s eyes fluttered open falling upon the plain grey ceiling of Voyager’s sickbay. In her half awakened state she smiled for the dream she’d been having before the memory of events leading up to her sickbay visit.  
  
Her grin shattered and she sat bolt upright, groaning at the pain in her still tender ribs. She ignored the ache, eyes flicking to the bio-bed at the back of the room, where Chakotay lay, unconscious, but alive.  
  
“Captain,” the Doctor’s voice made her jump and her gaze moved to him, in the doorway to his office.  
  
“Doctor,” she responded hoarsely.  
  
He approached her bio-bed and grabbed a medical tricauder from a nearby cart. He also put a hand on her shoulder and eased her back onto the bed. She had basically no strength and was unable to offer up any sort of resistance.  
  
“How is he?” she asked as he began to scan her.  
  
The hologram sniffed, “you shouldn’t worry about the Commander’s condition at the moment,” he dodged the question.  
  
“What about the rest of the crew?” she asked urgently. That last ship had hit pretty hard. What if they’d lost someone? Wouldn’t that be her luck, try to cheat and lose anyway.  
  
The Doctor gave her a sympathetic frown, “there were a few injuries, none quite as bad as you or the Commander,” he responded.  
  
_Then why the sympathetic look?_ She forced herself into a seated position again, earning an unimpressed frown. “I’m fine,” she told him.  
  
“You may be fine, Captain, but you need to rest,” he urged.  
  
Kathryn swung her legs off the side of the bed, ignoring the vertigo with the slight shake of her head.  
  
“Of course, why would you listen to me?” the Doctor grumbled. “After all, I’m only your physician,” he closed the tricauder with an irritated snap.  
  
She continued ignoring him; if he’d told her what was happening with Chakotay then she might have been content to remain in the bio-bed. Her legs wobbled as they touched the floor, she gave herself a moment to steady herself before trying to walk.  
  
“Honestly, Captain, you should be resting,” the Doctor griped.  
  
“I’m fine, Doctor,” she said again rather tersely.  
  
He rolled his eyes, “very well,” he muttered. He offered her an arm, which she took cautiously.  
  
He supported her as they moved to Chakotay’s side, moving her to the stool so she could sit. Outwardly Chakotay looked fine. There was no bruising, no bleeding, no indication that he’d been in any distress.  
  
“Is he going to be alright?” she asked.  
  
The Doctor met her gaze levelly. “The beam struck him at the base of his skull,” he began. “To preserve higher brain function I had to place him in a medically induced coma,” the Doctor cleared his throat.  
  
Not for the first time Kathryn wondered about that quirk. Was that something he’d picked up to show signs of his discomfort? Or was it something added intentionally to his program by Doctor Zimmerman?  
  
“When can you wake him?” she asked.  
  
The Doctor hesitated, glancing back to the bed she’d just occupied, “you really should get some rest,” he said evasively again.  
  
_“When can you wake him?”_ she asked again. She wasn’t in the mood to be ignored.  
  
The Doctor sighed, “We’ve already tried to wake him.”  
  
She shook her head, “what do you mean?” She glanced to the hologram attempting to understand what he was saying.  
  
“We tried to wake him this morning, Captain,” the Doctor ducked his head as though unable to look Kathryn in the eyes. “His coma is no longer medically induced,” he added.  
  
“So,” she had to think about how to phrase her next question. “When will he wake?”  
  
The Doctor faltered giving time for the implications to set in.  
  
_“Is he going to wake?”_ she pressed.  
  
“The brain is complex,” he began. Kathryn had heard the spiel many times before but couldn’t quite summon the energy to stop him. “There are still many things we still don’t understand.” He cleared his throat again, “there is every possibility he will wake up.” He paused and Kathryn sensed the ‘but’, “however, the longer he is in a coma, the more his chances of recovery diminish.”  
  
Returning her gaze to Chakotay, Kathryn took his hand in both of hers. She had been wrong, months ago, when she’d thought Chakotay distracting her from her duties was the reason she’d kept him at arms-length all these years. Her real fear had always been losing him.  
  
“Coma patients can often hear those around them,” the Doctor continued, “maybe talking to him will help?”  
  
The hologram withdrew, back to his office leaving Kathryn alone, once again.  
  
She stared down at Chakotay thinking of a million things she wanted to say, none of which she knew how to vocalise.  
  
Had she told him how she felt? She couldn’t remember. The conversation hadn’t been that long ago, how could she have no idea what she’d said?  
  
At first she willed herself to speak, to say anything. She should thank him for saving her life. She should tell him how she felt. Yet, all she managed to do was to stare vacantly at his unconscious form.  
  
She was only absently aware of the passage of time. Eventually her brain had stopped thinking about what she wanted to say; in fact it seemed to stop altogether.  
  
“Captain?” the Doctor’s voice spoke from the office doorway again. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting alone.  
  
She blinked, realising there were tears on her cheeks and wiped them away quickly, before turning her gaze back to him.  
  
“You really should get some rest,” he attempted again.  
  
“I’m going back to my quarters,” she told him.  
  
“I wouldn’t advise that at the moment, Captain-” he began, but she cut him off. She stepped off the stool using the bio-bed as a support against the vertigo that hit.  
  
“Eat healthy, no coffee, plenty of rest, keep hydrated, light duties,” she reiterated everything he’d told her after each injury she’d sustained over the years.  
  
“Well, yes, but I think you should stay so I can monitor you,” he countered.  
  
“I’ll be fine, Doctor,” she ignored his plea, walking past him toward the door.  
  
The Doctor sniffed, “wait,” he stopped her short.  
  
She turned back giving him an unimpressed frown.  
  
“Since you’re going to ignore my advice _anyway_ ,” he stated. He moved toward a bench and grabbed a cortical monitor from one of the trays. “I’d like to at least monitor your vitals overnight,” he told her.  
  
She allowed him to fit the device under her right ear before leaving wordlessly. She had to find a distraction. First, though, she had to change into her uniform. After that she could check in with the bridge. _How long had she been in sickbay?_ She frowned, irritated that she’d neglected to ask and that the Doctor had neglected to tell her.  
  
She encountered few crew members on her way to her quarters, none of whom spared her more than a glance. They were probably too busy with repairs.  
  
The moment she reached her quarters she stripped and threw her old clothes in the replicator, to recycle them. Her right arm was stained with dried blood, probably from the break. She’d been too concerned with Chakotay to look at it before Tom sedated her.  
  
Trying not to dwell she moved into the bathroom, taking a quick sonic shower before redressing in her uniform.  
  
Her eyes flicked to the ring on her nightstand. She hadn’t worn it, of course, that would be against uniform regulations. Now those regulations seemed redundant, ridiculous and heartless. She picked up the ring, slipping it onto her finger, before proceeding back out to head to the bridge.


	14. Chapter 14

Word about the ring on Kathryn’s finger spread through the ship like wildfire. No one knew the significance, exactly, though their guesses were pretty close to the truth, or so she heard.  
  
She overheard a number of conversations, all roads, from which, eventually led to the ring being Chakotay’s and that she wore it now because of his coma. She never confirmed nor denied anything but the crew were such a tight family group that they just seemed to accept that for the truth.  
  
They encountered the Fen Domar another two times, each time one or more of their damned vessels made a run for Voyager, but the crew had learned how to counter their charge. Tuvok would use the tractor beam or Tom might make an impulse jump or they would disable their attacking ships in a quick burst.  
  
They finally seemed to have made it through five days later, so they stopped, to effect repairs in a nebula.  
  
Kathryn spent most of her free time in the sickbay. She found her voice after not too long and began to talk to Chakotay. At first she relayed information about Voyager’s travels, she told him about crossing into the Beta Quadrant and how enthusiastic Starfleet were to get them all home. She told him that she’d already begun negotiations for the Maquis, Tom, the former Equinox crew and for the Doctor.  
  
From _here_ Starfleet seemed receptive. All commissions would be held, except for the former Equinox crew who would be dishonourably discharged. No criminal charges were to be laid against anyone. She even managed to negotiate for the Doctor to keep his mobile emitter, after one month of study from Starfleet engineers. She tried to fight but the Doctor was pleasantly surprised by her efforts and agreed to the terms.  
  
She also began to read to Chakotay everything from the works of Chaucer to the Parables of a Stolen Night, a Betazoid book she’d promised to lend him almost two years ago now.  
  
As the months wore on, so did her hope. She begged him to wake up. She begged the universe for a miracle. But he was still unresponsive.  
  
The crew became strongly supportive of her over the time. They knew her morale was slipping and seemed to be trying everything in their collective power to keep her spirits up. Harry contacted numerous species as they progressed trying to find someone with more advanced medical technology to try to wake Chakotay. B’Elanna and Tom had her around for dinners, distracting her with news of Miral’s latest accomplishments. Tuvok also hosted dinners and to Kathryn’s surprise he didn’t mention the ring, he didn’t even glance at it. This combined with dozens of celebrations, scientific curiosities and holo-photography slide shows kept her preoccupied.  
  
But they didn’t stop her from thinking about the small things she missed: his ridiculous insistence on having cream and sugar in his coffee, or his beautiful, dimpled smile when he saw her each morning. She still spent a good deal of time at his bedside, silently willing him to wake.  
  
When Voyager finally reached Earth the whole fanfare came as something of a shock to Kathryn. She had somehow managed to delude herself into believing that Chakotay would miraculously awaken, as though in a fairy tale, once they hit orbit and that everything would be good, once again. Real life, as it turned out, wasn’t a fairy tale. He didn’t wake.  
  
He was taken to Starfleet Medical where an army of doctors and researchers devoted their time to his recovery. Somehow that didn’t make her feel any better, however.  
  
Kathryn was forced into celebratory function after function. She was being heralded a hero, lauded as Starfleet’s golden child and paraded around as though she had done something impressive. The entire time, all she wanted was to return to Chakotay’s bedside.  
  
Starfleet graciously allowed her to delay her debriefings, though they weren’t overjoyed by the request. They gave her two months, or until Chakotay woke up.  
  
Her mother and sister, however, were rather supportive of her through the ordeal. They visited her at Starfleet Medical more than anywhere else and sat with her, on the odd occasion talking to Chakotay, even introducing themselves.  
  
During her time at Starfleet Medical it seemed that every few days someone wanted to try some kind of experimental treatment to bring him out of his coma. At first Kathryn had been thrilled and excited by the prospect. As each new theory came in the doors, however, she began to weary more and more.  
  
The Doctor wasn’t so delicate. Once his mobile emitter was returned he resumed treatment. He sat with Kathryn and explained that Chakotay’s chances had diminished considerably since he’d passed the six month mark.  
  
Kathryn didn’t want to hear it. Chakotay was a fighter; he was stronger than anyone she’d known. He would make it through this, he just needed more time.  
  
The crew also tried to remain supportive but they had to move on with their lives. Harry was reassigned to the U.S.S. Lexington with another promotion to boot. Tuvok moved to Vulcan to begin his arduous treatment. Seven followed Tuvok, forming a strong dislike for the attention she was receiving on Earth. Most everyone else either accepted commissions in Starfleet or moved on.  
  
Tom and B’Elanna remained close by, still attempting to decide what to do with their futures. They called in on occasion but their visits dwindled around Voyager’s second month home.

Kathryn reclined in the chair beside the window of Chakotay’s room staring through him. She’d been here for – well, for some time. The first of her debriefings were meant to have started hours ago, but she’d skipped them.  
  
She was all too aware of the trouble she might be in but honestly she didn’t care anymore. She’d devoted years of her life to Starfleet, she’d stuck by their rules in the Delta Quadrant. She’d payed her dues to them, they could _wait_.  
  
The door hissed open and she glanced up at the Doctor, who seemed surprised to see her there.  
  
“Who’d have thought, Captain Janeway the rebel,” he quipped. He moved to the side of the bed, touching a hypospray to Chakotay’s neck before taking some kind of scan.  
  
She ignored his comment, focussing her attention on Chakotay again.  
  
After a moment of silence the Doctor spoke again, “Captain, this,” he motioned to her seated on the couch, “this isn’t healthy.”  
  
She glared at him, “I’m not leaving.”  
  
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked.  
  
She had no idea. Her mother had brought her something in the morning, hadn’t she? “Mom brought me a sandwich earlier,” she told him.  
  
“Your mother hasn’t been here today,” he responded with a frown.  
  
Kathryn blinked uncertainly.  
  
“Captain, you need rest, you need to eat and you _need_ to go to your debriefings,” the Doctor told her.  
  
She shook her head, “I’m fine, I’m not hungry and _no_ I _don’t_ ,” she argued.  
  
He sighed audibly, “You’re only hurting yourself in the long run.”  
  
“How?” She snapped, irritated.  
  
Closing his medical tricauder, he placed it and the hypospray on the cart next to Chakotay’s bed. “If he doesn’t wake up-”  
  
“Not this again,” she cut him off in disgust. “He _is_ going to wake up,” she snapped.  
  
“Captain, he has been in a coma for nearing nine months,” the Doctor shook his head, “you need to prepare yourself for the worst.”  
  
“No, I don’t,” she growled.  
  
He ignored her and continued speaking, “because if you _don’t_ , you’re going to end up more heartbroken than you already are.”  
  
She met his gaze with a furious glare, “why are you doing this, Doctor?”  
  
He frowned as though considering how to reply, “I care for you,” he responded. “As do your family, your crew and, believe it or not, Starfleet.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, “what do they have to do with any of this?” she snapped.  
  
“They asked that I speak with you,” he admitted.  
  
Kathryn’s stomach clenched. The people closest to her, her family, her crew all thought that she should give up? _Did they even know her_  
  
“I am not leaving, Doctor,” she told him quietly.  
  
“Starfleet aren’t going to allow this to continue,” the Doctor commented.  
  
“I’ll resign,” her response was immediate. She turned away from him and moved back to Chakotay’s side. A niggling thought whispered in the back of her mind questioning whether she actually would.  
  
“At least get some rest,” the Doctor grumbled from behind her.  
  
“I’ll rest later,” she insisted.  
  
The Doctor sighed again, “It’s zero three hundred,” he commented.  
  
Kathryn blinked, _zero three hundred?_ He had to be lying. Before she could stop herself she glanced toward the chronometer in the corridor outside. He was right.  
  
“Please Captain, consider what I’ve said,” he asked. A moment later she heard the door hiss behind her.  
  
The moment she was alone she began to fume. She’d given everything for her crew, to get them back to their families. How dare they imply that she should give up? And _Starfleet!_ She’d managed the impossible, every moment of their journey was firmly ensconced in her mind; did they fear a couple of months displacement from Voyager that she would _forget everything?_  
  
Kathryn growled angrily. She wanted to kick something. She _wanted_ to kick the Doctor.  
  
She grabbed the stool from the side of the room and slammed it down next to the bio-bed, making a godawful racket. This was a hospital, she should try to be quite, but she was in the mood to make some noise.  
  
Her stomach had knotted so tightly now her breathing had become stilted and painful. Desperate as she was to act out on her fury she forced herself to sit down and, in an effort to calm herself, took Chakotay’s hand.  
  
Drawing a deep breath she closed her eyes, before exhaling slowly.  
  
_She would never abandon a member of her crew!_  
  
Her eyes flicked to Chakotay’s face and for the first time she realised just how gaunt and pale he’d become. Even in their worst days in the Delta Quadrant he had never been so drawn.  
  
_How had this happened?_ He should have lived another fifteen years, and now, because of her selfish desires he was going to die. If she’d kept her mouth shut, if she’d let him be angry with her he’d be awake and she’d be in the coma. That was a trade she’d happily have made.  
  
“Please, Chakotay,” she whispered. “Prove them wrong,” she begged.

***=/\=***

A hand ran through her hair.  
  
Kathryn slowly became aware of the soothing sensation. Her eye fluttered open and for the briefest of moments she thought Chakotay had woken up. She sat bolt upright, almost falling backward off her stool, into her mother’s arms.  
  
She attempted to contain her disappointment when she met her mother’s eyes. “Mom? What are you doing here?”  
  
She’d fallen asleep on the stool, head resting against Chakotay’s chest; she’d probably drooled on the poor man. Honestly she was surprised she hadn’t slipped off, onto the floor.  
  
Gretchen frowned sadly, “Katie, come with me to get some breakfast,” her mother requested.  
  
Kathryn licked her lips as though considering the request, but shook her head. “I can’t.”  
  
“Katie, you’ve been here almost every minute of every day since you returned,” her mother’s tone became stern.  
  
Kathryn fixed her with a glare, “no,” she answered.  
  
Her mother huffed in frustration and planted her hands on her hips, “Katie, you can’t stay in here,” she grumbled.  
  
She turned back to Chakotay, ignoring her mother.  
  
“He’s not going to _wake_ , Katie!” Her mother snapped. “You have people here who love and need you,” she continued, obviously aggravated.  
  
Kathryn gritted her teeth and in a defiant gesture took Chakotay’s hand again.  
  
“Please, Katie, this isn’t like you,” her mother tried.  
  
Kathryn turned on her, shocked, “you’re kidding, right?” She’d been perfectly willing to sleep her life away after the death of her father and Justin. With a sniff she focussed on Chakotay once again.  
  
He meant too much to her. She _would_ be here _when_ he woke up.  
  
“Phoebe wanted to come in here with a bucket of ice water,” her mother continued.  
  
She moved around to Kathryn’s side, standing just in her peripheral vision. “I should have let her,” she said in a rather bitter tone.  
  
She had thought that, of all the people in her life her mother would understand what she was going through. “He would _never_ have abandoned me,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure whether she was talking to her mother now or to the future version of herself that _must_ have lied in that damn letter. “And I won’t abandon him!”  
  
“You don’t have to abandon him! I just want to spend time with my daughter!” her mother argued. “My daughter, the one I’ve hardly seen in eight years!”  
  
“I need to be here when he wakes up!” Kathryn countered.  
  
“He isn’t waking up, Katie,” her mother retorted. “And the sooner you figure that out, the sooner you can grieve him and put him behind you.”  
  
Kathryn _never_ expected her mother to behave so callously. That being said this wasn’t the woman she knew from her youth. Gretchen Janeway had been hardened by the loss of her husband and the perceived loss of her daughter.  
  
She noted her mother’s eyes flick toward the console monitoring Chakotay’s vitals before returning to her. “Dammit, Katie. You’re as stubborn as your _damn_ father.”  
  
“Well I had to take after _one_ of you!” she responded before she could stop herself.  
  
“Yes,” Gretchen spoke in a low tone, “and just like your father, Starfleet has cost you everything.” Her mother paused and watched for some indication that she might relent but Kathryn turned her attention back to Chakotay’s face, intent on ignoring her.  
  
“ _Fine_ , Katie,” her mother snapped, “Waste your life in here; just don’t expect your friends and family to wait around.” With that she stormed out.  
  
Hardened or not her mother’s attitude felt shocking and wholly out of character. Her mother had been supportive of Kathryn’s grief after her father and Justin had died, why couldn’t she be supportive now?


	15. Chapter 15

The Doctor and her mother were not the only people to visit over the next few weeks and attempt to convince Kathryn to leave. Apart from Tom and Admiral Paris, Phoebe, Tuvok and Admiral Patterson she was also visited by a counsellor who specialised in ‘grief counselling’.  
  
With each visit her anger deepened. She became so angry that she kicked people out of Chakotay’s room. Only the Doctor was immune to her wrath, mostly because he was treating Chakotay. The hologram visited every day with a hypospray and immediately berated Kathryn for her devotion to a lost cause.  
  
Then she laughed. The Doctor’s comment stung but it seemed like the perfect metaphor for her life. At the very least it seemed a metaphor for the last eight years. She’d been so devoted to Voyager, a quest that, at times others wanted to abandon. She had been so devoted to Seven’s reintegration into ‘society’ or what passed for society on Voyager, despite the objections of many of her crew.  
  
Then there was the Equinox. She’d wanted justice for the Ankari, pursuing Ransom with no regard for those who might be injured in the process. Her zealous hunt had almost lost her closest friend and her crew.  
  
In spite of her callous disregard for Chakotay during Voyager’s encounter with the Equinox he had _never_ strayed from her side. Oh, he had been angry for a while afterward. But he forgave her. His loyalty and devotion had never been a question. And she had used every ounce of strength he’d been willing to give her, and more. That, in fact, had been her life-force their entire journey.  
  
She had used him. She had given him little of herself in the process. All that time, though, she had loved him. If only she’d spoken up earlier or let herself enjoy their time in the Delta Quadrant.  
  
Now, waiting by his bedside, waiting for him to wake was her chance to show her own devotion. If she had to stay here one year for every day Chakotay had been by her side she would consider that a fair compromise.  
  
The three month anniversary of Voyager return approached and Kathryn received a few visitors on the day. B’Elanna and Tom brought Miral by to see her auntie Kathryn. They very tactfully didn’t even look in Chakotay’s direction.  
  
Harry, who had returned to Earth for a small gathering, popped in. The young lieutenant commander asked about Chakotay’s condition and whether there had been any change.  
  
There were others. She did appreciate their visit but her concentration waned during their chats and she knew they could tell how disparate her focus had become. At the very least no one challenged her on her decision to be here with Chakotay.  
  
In the evening the Doctor returned, gave Chakotay an injection and then berated Kathryn once again. Eventually, after a rather heated discourse, he left and Kathryn, exhausted from such a long day, fell asleep.

***=/\=***

_Kathryn stared into the void of space before Voyager, empty and desolate but for one shining light. She’d been searching for home for so long she couldn’t even remember what it looked like, what it felt like. All she knew was that she had yet to find it._  
  
_“Shields up, red alert!” she snapped_  
  
_The ship shook and Kathryn’s eyes flicked to tactical, expecting a report from Tuvok that never came. He wasn’t there, no one stood at the post._  
  
_She jumped out of her chair and dashed to the console. Before taking in the sensor readings she activated Voyager’s shields. “Two ships have decloaked and opened fire,” she announced. “Firing phasers, Mr Paris, evasive manoeuvres,” she ordered._  
  
_Voyager remained still and silent and Kathryn glanced up. Tom wasn’t at his post!_  
  
_Setting an automated firing sequence Kathryn ran to the front of the bridge as another shock threatened to throw her to her knees. She was a good shuttle pilot, but an adequate starship pilot. She had nowhere near the skill Tom Paris had. Her methods of evasion were subpar at best and Voyager took a full barrage to port._  
  
_She grasped the console, in an effort to maintain her station._  
  
_“Damage report!” She snapped. She maintained her focus on flying the ship but when no one spoke she chanced a look behind her._  
  
_The bridge was empty. Stale as though no one had been aboard in years. Her crew had abandoned her and now she was going to die in the Delta Quadrant, lonely._  
  
_A part of her wanted to give in. She sat for a moment, contemplating the inevitability of her death._  
  
_“Kathryn,” a voice spoke. She turned around, there was no one there but the strength of the speaker gave her confidence. She re-routed tactical and operation controls to the helm. The console, though a mess now, held everything she needed to fight._  
  
_She reset the targeting scanners, glanced briefly over the damaged report and flew._  
  
_Voyager was hit again but Kathryn managed to disable the engines on one of the vessels._  
  
_“Kathryn,” the voice repeated._  
  
_She frowned in concentration as she locked onto the weapon systems of the stationary ship. Two bursts caused a minor explosion on their outer hull, sensors confirming the ship had lost weapons._  
  
_Fighting one on one certainly gave Voyager the advantage. She held fast, taking direct damage in order to score a perfect hit on their weapons._  
  
_A flash of light brightened the screen as the vessel disappeared into warp, leaving Kathryn alone but feeling rather accomplished._  
  
_“Kathryn,” the voice spoke again._


	16. Chapter 16

At first Kathryn registered nothing but the surrounding darkness. She’d forgotten for a moment where she was and why she was here. At the realisation her heart sank and she slumped into the couch with a sigh.  
  
“Kathryn?” a voice questioned groggily from the dark.  
  
She sat bolt upright, “computer, lights,” she snapped.  
  
He was awake.  
  
Chakotay squinted against the brightness, though he didn’t raise a hand to shield his eyes.  
  
With a new surge of adrenaline Kathryn darted off the couch, to his side, snatching his hand.  
  
“You’re awake!” she blurted, “I should call the Doctor,” she added. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”  
  
He gave a small smile and shook his head, “you should probably call the Doctor,” he agreed hoarsely.  
  
She slapped her chest, “Janeway to the Doctor, he’s awake!” she announced. She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice, or the hint of smugness.  
  
“I’ll be right there,” he stated, simply.  
  
“We’re home?” Chakotay questioned after she had closed the channel.  
  
She gave the room a cursory glance before returning her gaze to him, “yes,” she replied simply.  
  
“How long?” he asked.  
  
Kathryn wasn’t sure whether he was asking how long they’d been home or how long he’d been unconscious, so to save time she covered both. “Voyager’s been home three months; you’ve been unconscious for ten.”  
  
He drew a small, thoughtful breath and then grimaced. “I feel like I got hit by a Starship, what happened?”  
  
“You go hit by a Starship,” she joked, “well, part of one,” she added. As grateful as she was to finally have him back she wasn’t overly enthused about the prospect of living through the incident again.  
  
Chakotay gave a weak laugh and squeezed her hand. His eyes flicked down and he started in surprise, “you’re wearing the ring?”  
  
She’d almost forgotten. With a small smile she nodded, “I started after the incident,” she admitted.  
  
“So much for uniform regulations,” he teased.  
  
The door hissed open before she could reply. The Doctor entered with a broad smile, seemingly unsurprised that Chakotay was sitting up.  
  
“I knew it would work,” he praised himself confidently.  
  
Kathryn frowned, “you knew _what_ would work?” she asked carefully.  
  
He moved up to the bed, grabbing a medical tricauder on the way and began to scan Chakotay. “A new drug from Bolia that has promising results in coma patients,” he explained rather flippantly. “I’ve been injecting him daily for about two months, now. Since I resumed care,” he added before turning his attention to Chakotay. “How are you feeling Commander?”  
  
“Great,” he replied, “well rested,” he added with a small grin.  
  
Kathryn wanted to ask about the treatments, but didn’t want to detract from the Doctor’s time with Chakotay. Part of her was annoyed that she hadn’t been told. Another much more overwhelming part was just glad to have him back.  
  
“Well, you’re going to be getting plenty more rest,” the Doctor responded. He closed the tricauder. “I’m going to keep you here for one week. Assuming your health improves, I’ll release you.”  
  
“But he’s alright, he’s recovering?” Kathryn couldn’t help asking.  
  
The Doctor turned to her, “your faith in my abilities has once again paid dividends,” he responded jovially.  
  
Ordinarily she’d have been exasperated by his pompous response, tonight, however, she didn’t care. He had indeed brought Chakotay back to her and she couldn’t be happier.  
  
“Well, Commander, you should rest,” he stated.  
  
Chakotay gave a small confused smile and nodded.  
  
Kathryn’s insatiable curiosity got the better of her and she followed the Doctor out of the room.  
  
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” he probed before she had a chance to speak.  
  
“Yes,” she responded levelly. He’d spent a better part of the last month trying to convince her that Chakotay wasn’t coming back. Why had he been so callous if he was trying a new treatment?  
  
“Commander Chakotay was the first Human subject the drug was tested on,” he began. “In Bolians it proved forty percent effective in patients between three and seven months of treatment. Interestingly enough, it proved seventy percent effective in comas patients who had a – loved one in distress,” he eyed her carefully, as though to make sure she was following.  
  
Kathryn’s eyes narrowed, “in distress?” she asked.  
  
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “one man’s wife had passed away a short time beforehand; his children were nearby at all times. Reportedly there were a lot of tears. Another man was in a shuttle accident with his brother, he remarked when he woke that he could hear the nurses and Doctor’s discussing whether his brother would pull through.  
  
“I guess the treatment is more effective for Humans,” his eyes flicked to Chakotay through the glass.  
  
“Is that why everyone argued with me to leave?” Her voice sounded far angrier than she actually felt. If they’d done this to help his recovery then she could hardly hold it against them.  
  
“Ah – yes,” the Doctor replied hesitantly, “and I must apologise for that,” he added quickly.  
  
She nodded slowly to herself before pulling him into a hug. “Thank you for not giving up,” she muttered.  
  
After a moment’s reluctance the Doctor returned the hug. “Your friends and family understand. We all wanted to do what we could to help.”  
  
She withdrew and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Doctor.”  
  
“It was my pleasure, Captain,” he responded, returning the smile. He turned to leave but stopped mid-stride, “Oh and, you’re not expected to appear at HQ for your debriefings for another month.”  
  
Kathryn started in surprise, “a month?” she questioned.  
  
“Yes, well, you can thank Admiral Paris and your mother for that. They organised for your leave to extend for six months or until a month after the Commander recovered.”  
  
She smiled to herself as he left sending a silent thanks to her mother and Admiral Paris for their support. When they visited next she would make sure to convey the thanks in person.  
  
She returned to the private room earning a rather beautiful, if exhausted smile from Chakotay, one she returned enthusiastically. Taking the stool from the side of the room she sat at his side again and held his hand. She’d done this almost daily over the months and nothing felt quite as good as him squeezing her hand in return.  
  
“I missed you,” she admitted.  
  
“I dreamed about you,” he responded.  
  
Her cheeks flushed and she gave a small laugh, not entirely sure wanted the details, well, not yet anyway.  
  
“I think I knew you were with me,” he added a moment later. 

Neither Kathryn nor Chakotay felt particularly inclined to sleep that night. They spent their time discussing Voyager’s final months in the Delta and Beta Quadrants everything from Kyoto’s pregnancy, she was due in seven weeks, to the oversight in the schematics that ran Voyager’s dilithium supply dry, shortly after Chakotay fell into the coma.  
  
Looking back at the event Kathryn couldn’t help but laugh. After all, Voyager made it home and now Chakotay had recovered.  
  
They spent a good portion of the next week chatting about the Voyager crew and their return. He pressed her only a couple of times about her own reunion with her family and how she was finding life back on Earth before he seemed to realise that she had spent a majority of her time here.  
  
The very best she’d been able to tell him was that she’d temporarily taken an apartment in San Francisco, she still hadn’t unpacked and that she’d spent a bit of time with her family.  
  
He felt terribly guilty about her missing out on their homecoming, but Kathryn knew that were their positions reversed he’d have been here when she woke. That had always been the way with them. One of the ways they had been able to show their love for one another and something Kathryn had cherished on each of those occasions.  
  
Tentatively they approached the subject of their relationship, but between the medical staff and constant visits from the Voyager crew and Kathryn’s family they weren’t able to do more than acknowledge that they needed to talk.  
  
Chakotay’s week passed and before Kathryn knew it he was being discharged.  
  
She’d already invited him to her apartment, since he hadn’t been able to organise anything for himself. Happily he seemed disinclined to do so while he’d been couped up at Starfleet medical. Of course this brought about the nervous anticipation of their return to her place where they would finally be alone.  
  
Throughout their walk to the transporter station Chakotay seemed transfixed by their surroundings. In truth Kathryn hadn’t taken the time to really see the changes in Earth since their return. They ended up taking a detour, just walking down the street discussing the differences between San Francisco now and when they’d both been here last.  
  
There were large differences of course. The Breen attack had been devastating, but there were still a lot of places that remained the same. Chakotay pointed out a small Italian restaurant he had frequented during his Academy years _and_ as a professor. Kathryn spotted a café she would drag Phoebe to when her sister had met her in the city after class.  
  
But the jeweller next door had apparently burnt down, now replaced by a bakery. Starfleet academy had a new wing on the harbour and the whole square around the corner from Starfleet Headquarters had been replaced with a memorial park.  
  
The imagery was both disturbing and wonderful and Kathryn was truly grateful to have Chakotay with her for this walk. Without him by her side she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to handle Voyager’s return. She couldn’t imagine how the woman who wrote the letter must have felt.  
  
Their detour took them around two hours. Despite the fact that Chakotay must have been in pain he never complained. She did note the rather relieved expression on his face once he stood on the transporter pad, however.  
  
Her apartment was smaller than she realised; two rooms, a small living, dining area and a kitchenette to the side. She knew when she’d taken it that it was hardly a permanent housing option. At the time her focus had been elsewhere and she hadn’t really cared what it was, as long as her belongings were somewhere. Her mother had asked her to move back home but she couldn’t do it. She adored her mother, of course, but she couldn’t handle the idea of living with her again.  
  
The apartment had only minor furnishings, a double bed, Starfleet issue, a small two-seater sofa, a replicator, a small dining table and an even smaller coffee table. _One bed and one small couch,_ she realised.  
  
She had been nervous enough about their time alone without that thought. They had a lot to discuss before getting to the bed sharing part of the relationship – _didn’t they?_  
  
To keep the air between them from becoming awkward Kathryn turned to ask whether he wanted a drink. She didn’t get very far.  
  
Their eyes met. Chakotay’s gaze held a strength and loyalty she’d seen a thousand times in the Delta Quadrant. She’d spent so long refusing to see the way he looked at her that it almost came as a shock to see his affections painted so freely.  
  
He closed the gap between them in a single stride and took her hands, lacing fingers with hers.  
  
She swallowed in anxious anticipation but she didn’t break eye contact. She wanted to savour every moment of their time together; frankly he’d be lucky to get rid of her.  
  
Despite their _years_ long court-ship Chakotay paused before kissing her. Always the gentleman, he seemed to be giving her the opportunity to walk away, if she so desired. But she had loved him for a long time, she had sat by his bedside wearing his ring for months and they were home. She wasn’t walking away now.  
  
Seemingly satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere he moved closer again.  
  
His lips met hers in a sweet, tender caress every bit as incredible as she’d imagined. They were cautious in their initial approach, enjoying the feel of each other, the freedom to finally be together and, at least in Kathryn’s case, the first real kiss she’d had in a rather long time.  
  
Soon, though, she couldn’t get enough of him. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip, an encouragement he met with equal fervour. Their tongues entwined as they tasted each other. _Perhaps the one bed situation wasn’t such a bad thing after all._  
  
She had never experienced a kiss quite like this before. He was passionate and aggressive, yet gentle and loving. If he had ever been bold enough to kiss her in the Delta Quadrant she’d never have been able to walk away.  
  
Aggravatingly Kathryn needed to breathe. She pulled away but kept close, holding his arms in a desperate attempt to keep in contact. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt light-headed.  
  
Chakotay seemed as intent to hold her. He rested one hand on her hip, the other cupped her cheek, thumb caressing over her lips as his gaze held hers once again.  
  
“I love you, Kathryn,” he breathed. A beautiful smile lit his expression which she returned in kind.  
  
She would never tire of hearing that from him and she would never tire of seeing his amazing smile. She would bend space and time for him, literally, apparently.  
  
Placing her hand over his she turned her face to kiss his palm, breathing in his scent as her lips touched his soft skin. “I love you too, Chakotay,” she whispered. She truly did.  
  
They enjoyed the rest of the day together. Chakotay made dinner, mushroom soup, with fresh ingredients, which they ate delightfully slowly. They chatted, mostly about what they could do now that they were home. They shared a dozen memories of various restaurants, museums, galleries and tourist locations they wanted to take one another to.  
  
Chakotay wanted Kathryn to come with him to Dorvan to meet his sister and the last remaining members of their family.  
  
She, in turn, invited Chakotay to visit her mother’s property in Indiana. She had so much to show him in her old home town, so much history she couldn’t wait to share with him.  
  
In that conversation Kathryn could see her life with him playing out. They would marry soon, the whole Voyager crew would attend and there would be many comments from Tom and his ilk of ‘I knew it’ and ‘I saw this coming a mile away.’ They would have two children, hopefully a boy and a girl, Kathryn wanted one of each. And they would be happy. They would reminisce about their time on Voyager, the romance of their adventure and the fun they had. All of the terror and hardships they had faced would be slowly forgotten, replaced by memories of their young son’s joy over his acceptance letter to Starfleet Academy. The first time their daughter piloted a shuttle, solo. Reunions with their crew and meeting the loved ones each had discussed aboard Voyager.  
  
She couldn’t wait to experience it all, to live to a ripe old age and die in each other’s arms – not before professing their love for one another one last time.  
  
After lunch they made love. Perfect and sensual, he seemed to know her body as well as he knew her mind and had her crying his name out in pleasure in no time at all. Her rather prolonged abstinence probably helped to some extent.  
  
They lay in bed, holding one another and slowly fell asleep in a comfortable embrace.  
  
As she drifted off to sleep Kathryn sent her silent thanks to the future version of herself for helping her become one of the lucky nine in ten. She also sent her thanks for saving her ship, her crew and her sanity. If she’d lived through that alternate future, she knew just how broken she’d have been.  
  
Finally, alone no longer, Kathryn slept well for the first time in eight years.


End file.
